


Pieces of Me

by Craftybadger1234



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anger Management, Angst, Background Relationships, Blow Jobs, Boys Kissing, Clothing Kink, Coming Out, Don't copy to another site, Enemies to Friends, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Horcruxes, M/M, Panic Attacks, Powerful Harry, Quidditch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:40:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 126,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24464341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Craftybadger1234/pseuds/Craftybadger1234
Summary: Returning to Hogwarts for eighth year, Harry does his best to make it work with Ginny. But with the horcrux inside him gone, everything is different now.And Harry finally has to admit it wasn't him that loved Ginny.What follows is Harry learning about his new self without Voldemort, finding love, and helping his friends deal with the fall-out of war.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hannah Abbott/Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Lavender Brown/Seamus Finnigan, Tracey Davis/Theodore Nott
Comments: 164
Kudos: 552





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was nine months in the making and I couldn't have done it without CleopatraIsMyName! Thank you so much for your support, suggestions, and corrections of my weird mistakes. Thank you for rolling with it when I randomly started like six other things. Thank you for those little conversations that lighten my day. It's been 2 years since we started working together and I've loved all of it!

Any minute now, or so Hagrid said repeatedly. Any minute now the Hogwarts Express would pull in and students would flood Hogsmeade Station. Harry rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans and stared down the empty track.

Ginny would be on the train.

He’d spent the summer months in Australia helping Hermione to recover her parents’ memories. At the end of it, Ron and Hermione went back home to the Burrow. Molly and Arthur had invited Harry as well, but Harry felt he needed to head straight to Hogwarts. Ginny had written to Harry, expressing her disappointment, but acknowledging his need to reconnect with the school and the figurative ghosts that haunted him. These few days in the empty castle, sharing tea with Hagrid and meals with Kreacher in the kitchen, had been good for him.

Yes, he was definitely ready to meet the train. Even if that hot flush felt more like anxiety than it did excitement. And it didn’t melt away when students started streaming from the train. The sound of Hagrid calling for the first years faded as his eyes met Ginny’s at last.

And the fluttering of butterflies in his stomach didn’t happen.

He smiled anyway when she leapt into his arms and they spun a small circle. At least the faint scent of flowers sparked a familiar warmth. She kissed him lightly on the lips and giggled. “Harry, your hair - you need a haircut.”

“Yeah,” he said with a smile, running his hand through shoulder-length hair. “Soon, I guess.”

“It’s so good to see you.”

“You too,” he said. It would be true soon enough.

\--------

A frenzy of joyful chatter overtook the Great Hall for the welcome feast. The summer free of fear and death had healed so many of the students. Harry sat next to Ginny, across from Ron and Hermione, and scanned the returning students for familiar faces.

The older students coming back for an eighth year still looked worn and grim through their smiles. Their eyes also scanned the room, perhaps checking for threats of various kinds. Those fears would take time to dissolve completely. Harry noticed that the war veterans didn’t sit together as he had with Ron and Hermione, but rather spread themselves out along the tables. Almost as though they had to stand guard. 

He sighed and tucked into his roast beef, hoping with time they could all learn to be kids again. Ginny took his hand and he smiled at her, remembering those brief months they’d shared when he’d gotten to act like a teenager for just a little while. Before it all went to hell.

After the meal, Harry kissed Ginny’s cheek goodbye. They made quiet plans to meet tomorrow afternoon, to reconnect without the entire school watching. The eighth years followed Headmistress McGonagall to the second floor corridor that housed guests to the castle. They endured a brief lecture on responsibility and proper student behavior and a later curfew and Harry wondered why any of it even mattered anymore. But everyone else nodded along so he did too.

At the end of her speech, McGonagall flicked her wand down the corridor and their names appeared on the doors. The suites had been modified like the House dorms, boys on the right side and girls on the left. One last admonition to keep it that way and McGonagall left in a swirl of robes and clacking shoes.

The thirty or so students drifted down the corridor looking for their names. Hermione made it to the other end first and said, “Common room is here.”

The room seemed large for such a small group. Across from the door were two large windows with fluffy window seats looking out over the Quidditch pitch. A fireplace sat at either end, with sofas and armchairs arranged around them. The middle of the room had several large tables suitable for studying. 

“Nice enough,” Padma Patil said with a quick glance around. “How do we keep the younger years out?”

“I think the Headmistress put an age line at the top of the corridor,” Hermione answered. 

“What about when the seventh years start aging up?”

Hermione sagged against the weight of questions she had no answers for. “I don’t know. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” She squeezed Ron’s hand and smiled at him. “I’m off to bed. It’s been a long day.”

Ron kissed her cheek and said, “I’ll walk you so I know where to find you.”

Others took this as their cue as well. Students disappeared into rooms, sometimes calling out to their roommates. As it turned out, they’d been divided so each House was represented in each room. Harry shared a room with Ernie Macmillan from Hufflepuff, Kevin Entwhistle from Ravenclaw, and Blaise Zabini from Slytherin.

The room had four-poster beds, just like in Gryffindor Tower, each decorated with bed hangings matching their House. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw were on either side of the door, and a bathroom door sat between the Slytherin and Hufflepuff beds.

“Not too bad,” Ernie said, bouncing on his bed. He pulled off his school robes, revealing a lightweight under-robe, and tossed it to sprawl on his trunk.

Zabini shifted his foot away from the fabric and frowned at it, but then his face smoothed into something bland and uncaring. “We should arrange a showering schedule so we’re not tripping all over each other in the morning before classes. Anyone shower at night?”

“I will,” Harry said. 

“Me too,” said Kevin.

“Good,” Ernie said, “That leaves me and Zabini for the morning. Good with you?”

Zabini nodded. He moved to his trunk and began unpacking. Ernie and Kevin followed suit. Harry summoned a few things out of his trunk and went to the bathroom where he showered for as long as he dared. The warm water calmed him enough he could settle into bed, even if sleep didn’t come easily. Tomorrow would be another long day.

\--------

Although they slept in a separate part of the castle, the eighth years still ate at their old House tables. Something about the food delivery system made adding another table troublesome, even though the space could easily accommodate one. Harry sat next to Ginny again, smiling and kissing her cheek good morning.

“How was it? Your room all right?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, “I’m with Ernie, and Kevin from Ravenclaw. Blaise Zabini. But it was all right.”

Ron rolled his eyes. “I’m with Draco Malfoy. So hurray. Also Seamus, at least he’s familiar. And Terry Boot.”

“Shouldn’t you have a Hufflepuff with you?”

“All five of us Gryffindors came back and there’s only four rooms, so someone had to double up. Although I wouldn’t mind trading Malfoy away.”

“It’ll be fine,” Hermione said. “We all just need to get used to each other.” Her cheeks reddened as Ron looked incredulously at her. “I don’t know. But we must have been sorted that way for a reason and if we don’t try and get along, we’ll all kill each other and that can’t be good. I’m in with Sally-Anne Perks and Millicent Bulstrode.”

“Sally-Anne Perks. I’d forgotten her. Where’s she been?”

“Her family went into hiding summer after fourth year. Her parents thought she’d benefit from this ‘extraordinary educational opportunity’ so…” Hermione shrugged. 

“Bulstrode,” Ginny said with an exaggerated shudder. “At least Parkinson didn’t come back. That’d be awkward.” She patted Harry’s thigh in sympathy.

Ron grabbed a scone from the plate that appeared. Mouth half full he said, “I just don’t see why we couldn’t be in with our regular dorm mates. Merlin knows this morning would have gone smoother. I didn’t realise what a routine we’d had with the other Gryffindors.”

Harry felt the same way. His hand-me-down pyjamas, heavily tailored with magic like all of his clothes, embarrassed him around new people. “Zabini set up a shower schedule right away. Very organised that one seems.”

Professors came down the tables then, passing out timetables to the younger years. McGonagall took advantage of the pause in conversation to announce the eighth years should stay behind after breakfast. Excited chatter broke out as students compared timetables and finished eating.

“Have fun,” Ginny said as she stood. She kissed Harry’s cheek and ran her fingers through his hair. “I’ll see you at lunch.” She waved goodbye to Ron and Hermione, and found Luna on her way out of the Great Hall.

Hermione’s gaze lingered on Harry. “You all right?”

Harry looked down at his plate, empty now that the food had all vanished. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat and smiled. “Yeah, I think it’s fine.”

Ron must have caught something in his tone because he also looked at Harry, then at Hermione. But thankfully before anything more could be said, McGonagall waved them all towards the Ravenclaw table. A quick head count showed twenty-seven students, out of the original forty from his year. 

“I trust all of you slept well and are making homes of your rooms?” McGonagall looked around and several students nodded their heads. 

Seamus raised his hand, “Profes - er, Headmistress, is it possible to switch rooms?”

Heads swiveled around and friends made eye contact. Apparently he wasn’t the only person hoping the answer would be yes.

“No, Mr Finnigan, I’m afraid it isn’t. Professor Flitwick and I decided this would be the best way to encourage school unity over House divisions.”

“Yeah we did enough bonding last year,” Seamus interrupted. “It’s more like I’m used to things with the other Gryffindors. Surely with sharing a common room and lessons there’s enough togetherness.” 

“While I appreciate your concerns, we’re afraid House divisions _in_ your rooms will cause House divisions _outside_ your rooms. And we would like you to serve as a good example to your fellow students. All right?”

Harry was rather tired of being a good example, but he nodded along with everyone anyway. 

“Now then,” McGonagall continued, “about your timetables. After much discussion with your other professors about the wide and varied state of your education thus far, and the range of expertise among the new professors, we’ve decided that independent study is the best plan moving forward.”

Several students frowned, while others perked up at what sounded like no lessons at all.

“You will be provided with lesson plans for the education of a typical seventh year student and _suggestions_ for homework assignments. You will have each of your classes once a week for professors to answer questions and offer any guidance you may need. But the majority of your education will be done on your own time.”

She paused while whispers broke out. Seamus and Dean high fived each other, while Terry Boot and Michael Corner spoke in frowning whispers.

Hermione raised her hand, “Headmistress, please, if I may… Why return to the school at all if we’re just going to be teaching ourselves? How is that helpful?”

“A very good question, Ms Granger. We feel your education would progress more naturally in the school than it would outside of it. You can work on your missing or interrupted seventh year, as well as beginning any advanced training you need for your chosen career.” Her face softened slightly, “And we understand you,” she glanced down the table at everyone, “of all the students, need a safe place to rest. We hope you will take this year to recover and examine your futures as you weren’t able to before, while also rounding out your education.” 

She paused a moment, then flicked her wand behind her and a pile of scrolls flew towards her. “I have here some other information for you, along with your class timetables. As stated in your letters over the summer, they were arranged by the Heads of Houses, based on your year six marks and the classes you began in seventh year. Please look them over carefully and queue up here,” she pointed to her right, “to make any changes. The rest of you are free to go.”

Harry glanced at his timetable, not really caring what classes he’d been assigned. Hermione had purchased his school things and they still sat wrapped in his trunk. His NEWTs weren’t likely to matter because Harry Potter could get any job he wanted. Or Harry could live off the gold left to him by his parents and Sirius. Either option worked for him. He noted two hour blocks for each class, one for each day of the week. Ron leaned over to compare and since they matched, Harry saw no reason to make any changes.

Their first lesson would be Charms at ten o’clock. And as they didn’t have any homework to work on, they decided to return to their common room.

“I’ll catch up with you later,” Hermione said as they all stood. “I have a few questions for the Headmistress.”

“Of course you do,” Ron said with a fond smile. He kissed Hermione’s lips and gave her a quick hug. “Hurry back because I miss you already.”

Seamus passed just then and snorted. “You’re a sap, Weasley!”

“You’re just jealous!” Ron laughed, elbowing Seamus. “Hardly any lessons at all. What do you make of that?”

Dean held the Great Hall doors for them. “Sounds like a lot of work. I missed most of last year and had to get a new wand. This is going to be like first year all over again.”

“Not just like,” Seamus said. “Homework sounded like a suggestion yeah? Magic’s probably easier to learn without essays involved.”

“Or harder because we don’t know the theory,” Ron said. He shook his head. “Please don’t tell Hermione I said that. Because I’m getting out of as many of those essays as I can.”

Without thinking about it, Harry followed Ron and Seamus to their room, which seemed all right because Dean came along too. They chatted about their classes until a few minutes later, Neville knocked and poked his head in the room.

“Ah! There you are!” Smiling, Neville joined the Gryffindor reunion by sitting on Ron’s bed. “Had to talk with McGonagall about Herbology. I’d told Professor Sprout I could help with some of the greenhouse care. A bit of extra credit wouldn’t hurt, right?”

“Especially if no one’s doing any homework.”

Harry leaned back on the pillows and let the boys’ chatter wash over him. The warm familiarity of it reassured him everything was all right. He’d take McGonagall’s words to heart and take this year to rest and think about… all the things he hadn’t wanted to think about yet.

Talk about classes wound down and Seamus pulled out playing cards and Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans for a game of poker on his bed. Their laughter broke off when the door opened and Draco Malfoy walked in. Crossing straight to his trunk, he pulled a book out and left without a word or look in their direction.

While deciding whether to return to school, Harry had completely forgotten the Slytherins and their possible return. Malfoy, Zabini, and Nott had all come back for another year, and Harry didn’t know what he was supposed to think about that. He hadn’t paid much attention to the girls, except to note Millicent Bulstrode, but only because her large size made her difficult to miss. 

“What’s it like with Malfoy here?” Neville asked as he picked up his cards. Harry looked at his own cards, relieved someone else had asked first.

“It fucking sucks,” Seamus said without pause.

Ron kicked him. “It’s too soon to tell. He hasn’t said a single word to any of us. Although he took ten years in the bathroom this morning, in addition to the ten years he took last night. That could be a hassle. Or not I guess, since we don’t all have to shower before breakfast to get to lessons.”

“Perhaps having a bit of trouble...” Seamus said with a concerned look, and moving his hand in a wanking gesture over his lap. He broke into a fit of giggles.

“You’d know best, wouldn’t you?” Ron laughed.

“Sod off, like I care about his wanking habits!”

“Hey, you’re the one that mentioned it.”

Harry definitely didn’t want to talk about wanking habits or the troubles one might be having with it so he said, “I’ll bet three beans.”

“I’m out,” Neville said, throwing his cards down amidst the groans from the other boys.

When Hermione joined them an hour later, Dean had nearly cleaned them all out. Even Neville, who frequently folded because he hated poker, but Harry suspected he was eating his beans instead of betting them. 

Hermione sat behind Ron, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Are you losing this hand? Want to go to the library?”

“Hermione, we’ve had exactly zero lessons. How can you need to go to the library already?” Ron threw his cards down. “And yes, I’m losing so let’s go. You coming Harry?”

Hermione rolled her eyes and mouthed, ‘NO’ at Harry over Ron’s shoulder, so he shook his head with a smile. “Nah, I’ll catch you two for class.”

Ron scooped up a few of Dean’s beans and took Hermione’s hand to lead her out the door. Seamus shook his head, “Those two, am I right?”

“It’s sweet,” Dean said, putting the cards back in the box. He pushed the rest of the beans into the centre of the bed for them all to snack on. Harry ate three at once, which he thought would be a mix of flavors but instead just tasted like sugar. 

Neville moved back to Ron’s bed, stretching nearly from headboard to footboard. He pulled his crumpled scroll from his pocket and carefully unrolled it. “Did you guys see in here about Hogsmeade? We’re allowed to go whenever we want, so long as we’re back on Hogwarts grounds by nine at night.”

Seamus looked around for his scroll but ended up having to summon it. Dean and Harry both pulled theirs from pockets. “Brilliant!” Seamus exclaimed. His face fell, “Oh, it says no alcoholic beverages may be consumed. We’ll have to get some another way because honestly, this year has been shit and I need it.”

Dean looked up from his scroll, “What about your cousin Collin? He’d send you some, right? Could probably disguise it pretty well too.”

Harry groaned as he read, “Damn, no Quidditch this year! Not for us older ones.” His eyes scanned the paragraph quickly, taking in the important bits. Can’t play on House teams. Hours set aside for free flying. Equipment available for casual games.

“Eh, I was never much for flying anyway,” Neville said with a shrug. He tossed the scroll to the bed and tucked an arm under his head. “Happy about Hogsmeade, though. I’m thinking of asking Hannah out.”

Seamus gave him a wicked grin, “Ooh, Nev, you sly dog… And so it begins…” 

“So what begins?” Harry asked.

“The great ‘Thank Fuck We’re Alive’ orgy.” He smirked at them. “Nev’s after Hannah, Harry’s got Ginny. What about you, Dean? I’m aiming for Lisa Turpin first.”

Dean flicked his wand, sending a cascade of beans to ricochet off Seamus’s forehead. Seamus yelled in outrage. “You deserve it for being a prick. And I’m warning Lisa off you.”

“Good luck with that, because last year while we were hiding from Carrows, she hinted that she’d be up for it.” Seamus tossed a bean in the air and caught it in his mouth. “We’re still alive and that’s good enough reason to fall into bed with a stunner like that.”

Neville rolled his eyes. “I’m not looking for a quick shag.”

“You’re a filthy, rotten liar there,” Seamus grinned, “and no one can convince me otherwise. Look, Harry’s already plotting how to get Ginny alone.” He waggled his eyebrows at Harry.

“I am not!” Harry spluttered while the other boys laughed at him. He threw another handful of beans at Seamus with a smile. “Shameless tosser! Ginny’d have my bollocks for a handbag if she knew I was talking to you lot about her like that. I’m out of here.”

Before he made it out the door, Seamus yelled, “Yeah, yeah, you’ll have plenty to say once she’s finally made a man out of you!”

Harry flipped them all two fingers as he left with a fond shake of his head.

\--------

Ron and Hermione had their heads bent together in soft whispers and kisses when Harry entered the classroom around the corner from their common room. He cleared his throat loudly and laughed when they sprang apart. “I take it your study date went well?” He waggled his eyebrows at them and sat next to Ron.

Hermione peered around Ron to stick her tongue out at Harry. “You’re just jealous Ginny isn’t free until after dinner.”

Michael Corner and Padma Patil came in, saving Harry from answering. Not long after, Neville and Terry Boot arrived and sat behind Harry. The other students trickled in, followed by Professor Flitwick, now Deputy Headmaster. He nodded hello as he walked to the front of the room.

“Welcome, welcome all of you! It’s so good to see your faces once again.” He paused a moment to beam at everyone. For some reason, Harry wished he’d chosen a seat further back. “Now, you may have noticed from your timetables that you’ll be spending most of your week in this classroom.” 

Harry wasn’t the only one to pull his timetable from his bag. He hadn’t looked very carefully at it at all but now he saw Room 207 listed below three out of his five classes.

“Potions, Herbology, Astronomy, Care of Magical Creatures, and Divination will be in their usual places for obvious reasons. But all your other lessons will be here in this classroom, set aside solely for your use. There are shelves here,” he pointed to the left side of the room, “for any books and things you’d like to store. The room is available at all times for study or practicals. Like your corridor, it is protected so only this group may enter. Any questions?” He waited a moment, but no one raised a hand. “Very good. Then here is your Charms syllabus.” 

Scrolls went flying through the room. Harry snatched one out of the air and read through it quickly. Some of the spells he already knew, others he’d never even heard of. Next to him Ron sighed as reality came crashing down. This year wouldn’t be all snogging in the library. On the other side of Ron, Hermione began making little notes in the margins. Harry sat back, confident Hermione would pull together a revising schedule for them all.

The two hour class moved along quickly. Professor Flitwick described the new format a little more, how they would be checking in with him once a week and demonstrating what they’d learned. He wouldn’t be collecting homework, but encouraged them to make notes on various spells nonetheless. The last part of class was spent demonstrating the spells they knew, to cross them off the list.

Harry followed the group to the Great Hall for lunch, pleased with the morning. The school had changed in subtle ways, and he appreciated the little allowances made for the eighth year students that needed gentle guidance and not strict rules for their education. It felt right after the last year wrecked them all.

“Harry!” Ginny said, waving him over to the empty space she’d saved. “How was your morning?”

He kissed her cheek as he sat next to her. She squeezed his thigh and kissed him again with that familiar glint of excitement in her eyes. “Pretty good. I think this year will be better than I thought.”

“With only one lesson a day, it’d have to be.”

Hermione and Ron sat across from them and easily picked up the conversation. “We’ll have plenty to do on our own time though. Enough to keep us busy without lessons getting in the way.”

Ron poured juice for Hermione and shook his head at Harry. “Did you ever think the day would come when Hermione said lessons got in the way?”

“You know what I meant!”

Harry laughed at the two of them and served up his own food. Ginny took his free hand while they ate, every now and again giving him a soft smile. Of all the things Harry had missed during his summer in Australia, these easy intimacies topped the list. Although they’d only dated a short while before the horcrux hunt, Harry had quickly gotten addicted to the way Ginny touched him all the time. A hand in his, sitting in his lap, rifling through his hair, hugs for no reason. There hadn’t been enough casual touching in his life.

The kiss goodbye she gave him, although light because of all the onlookers, promised more for when they escaped after her last lesson. It warmed Harry and gave him hope that he could meet the expectation in her gaze.

Harry followed Ron and Hermione to the eighth years’ common room. Seamus and Dean were already sprawled on the sofa on the right side of the room talking about nothing. Hermione sat with Padma Patil and Mandy Brocklehurst at the center tables, pulling out books and parchments and talking animatedly about the Charms syllabus.

Ron shoved Seamus’s legs off the sofa and sat in their place. “I can’t believe they’re at it already.”

“I can’t believe you’re surprised,” Harry said with an eye roll. “She’ll have you there with her by tomorrow.”

“I know,” Ron sighed but his lips twitched into a small smile.

Dean grimaced at the girls, “They’re making me feel guilty, but ugh, it’s the first day! We should go flying while everyone else is in lessons.”

“I’m all for it,” Harry agreed. In Australia, he’d gone flying with Ron nearly every day. Large stretches of open land with no people made for wild racing. He looked around the room to see who else might join them. “Who should we invite along?”

“Everyone,” Seamus said then stood up to yell at the room at large. “We’re going flying, anyone want to join us?”

While Seamus sorted everyone out, Harry and Ron went to fetch their brooms. Ron had refused to let Harry purchase him a new broom, but Harry insisted they needed them while they were in Australia. They’d compromised with Harry buying a pair of used Cleansweep Elevens, the same model Ron had in fifth year for becoming prefect. Although not as smooth as his old Firebolt, Harry had grown rather fond of the new-to-him broom.

The small group headed down to the pitch, stopping at the broom shed to pick up school brooms for Sally-Anne Perks and Ollie Rivers, since neither Hufflepuff had their own. The brooms were all as shaky as Harry remembered and he made a mental note to look into donating some newer models in better condition. He mounted his broom and took to the sky. Dean, Ollie, Lisa, and Ernie flew against Seamus, Ron, Kevin, and Sally-Anne, while Harry refereed. An hour later, Dean switched out and Harry played seeker for his side. Now that he actively sought it, the snitch made itself scarce. But thirty minutes later, he raced across the pitch and triumphantly held his arm aloft to announce the end of the match. 

“Should we go again?” Seamus asked as the players landed on the pitch.

Ron circled above the group. “Absolutely. That wasn’t much of anything!”

Dean rubbed his belly. “I think I’m too out of practice. My abs are going to be screaming tomorrow.”

“Me too,” Lisa agreed. “I can’t remember the last time I flew so long.”

Seamus winked at her and offered his elbow. “Well then, I’ll escort you back.”

Murmurings about their Charms lists began, and soon they were heading back to the castle. Ron and Harry stayed behind, neither yet ready to encounter Hermione and the timetable she’d likely created.

“Race you!” Ron yelled as he took off in a wide circle around the pitch.

Harry laughed and shot a blast of wind from his wand to knock Ron off course so he could catch up. The rotten cheater won that round, but Harry won the second race. The third round featured a lengthy set-up of various obstacles to fly around. 

“Whoo-hoo!” Ron screamed as he crossed the finish. “I won! I won! I won!”

“Liar! That was clearly a tie!” Harry yelled back, grinning at his best friend’s victory lap. Really, the end had been too close to call. But Harry could be generous. “Fine! Enjoy your victory while it lasts because I’m leaving you in the dust next time!” As Harry circled to the ground, he noticed a group coming down the path. He whistled at Ron to get his attention. “Someone’s coming. Was there a House practice scheduled?”

Ron landed lightly beside him. “Nah, it’s too early yet. They haven’t had tryouts or anything.”

“It’s the Slytherins,” Harry said as the group drew close enough to recognize. None of the Slytherin eighth years had joined their impromptu game. “I guess the others returned to the common room and they thought the pitch was empty. What do we do?”

“Beat a hasty retreat.” Ron inclined his head towards the Forbidden Forest and took flight.

Harry grinned and flew after him, leaving the Slytherins to their own devices.

\--------

They made it back to the castle with plenty of time to shower before dinner. Harry thought he could take his time getting dressed, until Ron showed up, complaining about being late for dinner.

“Stop rushing me! Ginny and I have our first proper date in forever and I want to look good,” Harry said as he tried to flatten his wild curls. 

Ron blew raspberries at him. “Mate, she knows your hair sucks, it’s fine.” 

“It’s not fine! I need a haircut. Damn it!” Harry threw the comb down in frustration. “Fine, it’s not about the hair,” he said quietly. “I’m nervous.”

“About Ginny? Why? This isn’t exactly new.” 

Harry sighed down at the sink. He tapped his fingers on the porcelain and tried to put his thoughts into words. “It feels new. After everything…”

“You’re overthinking things. It’s going to be fine, you’ll see. Once you’re alone, it’ll all come back. Now come _on_ already.”

They met Hermione in the hallway outside Harry’s room and walked to the Great Hall. Harry smiled to himself at Ron and Hermione holding hands and swinging them lightly. Things seemed so easy between them, especially with the time they spent together during their Australia trip. 

Harry worried things would never be so easy with Ginny. He didn’t know how to tell Ron or Hermione, but since they got back to England, he’d been anticipating this day with dread. All summer, while catching glimpses of Ron and Hermione hugging or holding hands or kissing, he’d thought about Ginny. And not once in all that time had he felt even a single flutter of desire. 

Hopefully that wouldn’t be the case tonight.

Ginny ate quickly, smiling all the while. Harry had a hard time stomaching anything, but he tried to keep a smile in place anyway. The shakiness increased when she whispered in his ear, “Let’s get out of here.”

With half the school still at dinner, they had no trouble finding a private corner of the grounds away from prying eyes. Harry laid several charms around them to keep it that way. As soon as he finished, Ginny pulled him in for a deep kiss.

“Oh how I’ve missed you, Harry,” she whispered against his lips. Her hands ran through his hair and she lightly cupped his cheeks. “I missed you so much. I can’t believe we’re here. So much has changed.”

He sat down and pulled her down next to him. “It’s been a strange summer, for sure. In addition to helping her parents, Hermione forced Ron and me into a sort of makeshift group therapy of her own invention.”

“Ron mentioned something about it while he was home.”

“Yeah, we hated it, but she was right of course. And it helped with some things.”

Ginny ran her fingers down his jaw, pulling him in for a kiss, but hesitated when Harry pulled back slightly. “Harry?”

“It helped with a lot of things… but not everything.” He took her hand and pulled her into his lap. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he rested his head on her shoulder and inhaled her soft scent. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, Harry.” Her fingers carded through his hair and she kissed his temple.

“But I'm still having a hard time with some things. Especially being back here.”

“Nightmares?”

“Sort of. It’s all… everything feels so jumbled in my head and - and I don’t know. I missed you, missed _us_ but I’m not sure I’m ready to jump back into _everything_ right away.” He squeezed her thigh to emphasise his words.

“Okay,” she said, nodding thoughtfully. She kissed his nose and grinned. “We can take things slow. That’s all right.”

His eyes searched her familiar face, looking for anything to spark warmth inside. “I thought of you so often last year.”

“Me too.”

“I had a map. An enchanted map of Hogwarts. It showed little footprints of everyone as they moved about the castle. I used to watch your footprints, just to remember. To reassure myself that you were safe.”

“It wasn’t always safe here,” Ginny replied ruefully.

“I know. But I could believe you were. It made it hurt less.” 

Her brown eyes shone brightly just before she leaned in for another kiss. This time, Harry let her and tried to lose himself in the sensation. But all he wanted was for it to be over. He sighed and rested his head against hers. “I just want things to be back to normal.”

“It’s okay if it takes time, Harry. We were soldiers in a war. We lost people we loved.” Her smile wavered, tinged with sadness. “But we still have each other and we can help each other get better.”

It didn’t escape his notice that Ginny already seemed better. As the evening wore on and they sat together in their hidden corner, she spoke animatedly about her summer. The Weasley family had gone together to grief counseling that had helped nearly everyone in some way. Even George, still struggling to come to terms with the loss of Fred, found the will to keep going day after day. He’d kept the shop running, and Ginny and Luna had both worked there for the summer. 

All the while, Ginny stroked his hair, down his cheek, twined their fingers together. He closed his eyes and soaked in the weight of her against him and the soft scent that reminded him of a home he never had.

As curfew approached, they held hands on their way back to the castle. Ginny walked Harry to the eighth years’ corridor and pressed her hand against the invisible barrier that kept her out.

“How is it really, with new dorm mates?” Her mouth pinched tight. “With Zabini.”

Harry glanced down the hall, at the open door to the common room. “It’s fine. Or it will be once we’re all more used to each other.”

She sighed and then wrapped Harry in a warm hug. “Sleep well, Harry. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Until tomorrow.” He gave her hand a squeeze and walked through the barrier. She held on until the wards forced their hands apart.

“I’ll miss you,” she said with a little wave. Harry smiled and blew her a kiss, relieved when she finally turned away.

Harry quickly scanned the common room. A few people were reading in the window seats, or at the centre tables with textbooks open. A large, laughing group sat by the right side fireplace, and all six Slytherins occupied the chairs around the left side fireplace. How had everyone else meshed so quickly?

Ernie shouted above the laughter, “Remember when Nev _required_ that cowbell, just to drown out Seamus every time he suggested fire as a distraction?” The group fell into giggling and Harry noticed a few people by the window and at the tables shaking their heads and smiling.

Of course, the Room of Requirement. Everyone had already spent loads of time together and made inter-House friendships. Nothing drew people together like tragedy. 

Except, of course, for the Slytherins. 

Harry joined the large group with a huff, sitting on the floor next to Ron. “How’d it go?” Ron asked quietly.

“As expected,” Harry said. He didn’t mention the emptiness, or how strange her kisses felt. Or how easy it was to leave her behind.

\--------

Both Thursday’s Herbology lesson, and Friday’s Transfiguration lesson went along much the same as Charms had. Professor Sprout gave them lists of plants they were to research, along with a seasonal chart of plants they were to care for in the greenhouses and around the grounds during the year. Professor Dimple, a tall, reedy witch, joined the staff as the new Transfiguration professor. She was just as no-nonsense as Professor McGonagall before her, and Harry wondered if such a trait was common in the field of Transfiguration. She’d been tutoring children for years, and had taken to Professor McGonagall’s lesson plans with little change. 

Although they’d only had three lessons, Harry felt overwhelmed and tired by all of it. Seeing an entire year’s worth of assignments made it hard to focus on any one thing and all he wanted to do was sleep. 

On Saturday, a group of eighth years met for a trip to Hogsmeade for lunch. Madam Rosmerta greeted them with hugs and well wishes. Harry had missed the familiar pub, and happily sipped his butterbeer next to Ron and Hermione.

He dragged his feet when it came time to leave the pub. “All right, no more putting it off,” Harry said reluctantly. “I’m getting my hair cut _today_.” He sighed and looked through the window of the salon around the corner from the Three Broomsticks.

Hermione wished them luck and said she’d meet them at Scrivenshaft’s after. Ron laughed at Harry’s dejection. “It’s not some weird kind of torture,” Ron said. “It’s a few swishes of a wand and a handful of sickles. Or maybe free, you being you and all.”

Harry didn’t want to go into the number of haircuts he’d had in his lifetime and how horrible they all were. He followed meekly, and then forced a smile to his face when the witches inside recognized him. A young witch, still in the middle of her haircut, jumped out of her seat and offered the spot to Harry.

“Erm… I can wait. It’s fine.” He sat in a chair, pulling Ron down next to him and grabbed the nearest magazine. _Witch Weekly_ , but that didn’t matter. He could read about charms to help lose belly fat if it meant not making eye contact with the other people in the shop. “This is a nightmare,” he hissed to Ron.

“It’s definitely the funniest thing to happen all day. Hey look, ginger biscuits. You should cut out that recipe.”

Harry threw the magazine down with a scowl. “Let’s just go. Your mum can cut it over the Christmas holiday. I’ll just tie it back until then.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Ron said, picking up the magazine. “Ooh, a compatibility quiz! I love those! _What do you like best about your partner? Nothing anymore, Honesty, Need time, Everything._ What does ‘Need Time’ even mean? And who answers ‘Nothing Anymore’? Why are you even taking a compatibility quiz if you don’t even like anything about them? Rubbish.” Ron tossed the magazine aside too and looked at Harry. “You didn’t say much in the common room last night. How’d it go with Ginny? Better than the last date?”

“Eh, not really? I don’t know. We took a walk through the castle and watched the rain. That was nice I guess. I feel like people are watching me everywhere I go.” All through their walk, his skin had prickled, as though watched by a million eyes. It kept him on edge the entire night.

“You know all those privacy spells from when we were camping. You could put those to good use.”

“Yeah I did, but it’s… I don’t know what it is. Something feels like it’s missing.” Harry bit his lip, nervous to say more to his girlfriend’s brother.

“It’s okay. You’ll find it soon. Looks like you’re up.”

A smiling witch approached and nervously led Harry to a chair in front of a large mirror. She relaxed when he said he didn’t know what he wanted and could she just make it all look neater. A few swishes of her wand and a little bit of styling product and Harry had a sleek, new look. It was shorter on the sides and back and the curls lay peacefully across his forehead. 

Ron whistled when he saw the final look. “Impressive what a little magic can do.” 

When they joined Hermione at Scrivenshaft’s, her jaw dropped. “Harry! I can’t believe it. You look amazing!”

“Okay,” Harry shrugged awkwardly. “We’ll see if I can make it look like this tomorrow. She said a few drops of Sleekeazy and I’d be set.” He held up a tiny pink bag. “I also bought a special brush, although I’m not sure why,” he added, feeling unaccountably ridiculous. 

Hermione kissed his cheek. “It’s very grown up of you, owning a brush.”

“Sod off! I already own a brush, thank you very much. But now I have two.”

His new hairstyle drew eyes everywhere they went, even as they walked through the school grounds to their common room. He hated the way everyone stared all the time, but it reassured him Ginny would like it. 

He dressed carefully once again and picked up the flowers he’d bought for Ginny in Hogsmeade, as well as the picnic basket he’d packed in the kitchens. Dean whistled at him as Harry passed his room, and Harry hoped that meant he’d done well preparing for their third date in four days. 

Harry knocked on the Fat Lady’s portrait, inwardly rolling his eyes at having to beg permission to get inside the Tower he’d lived in for six years. 

Thankfully Ginny had been waiting for him and popped out almost immediately. “Harry! Your hair! It looks amazing.”

“Thanks,” he said, self-consciously patting it. “It’s so much lighter. Cooler.” He shook his head and still marveled at the air on his neck instead of the drag of his hair. “These are for you.” He held out the small bouquet of white carnations tinged red at the ends.

“Harry, thank you! How sweet.” She smiled and pressed the flowers to her nose. Harry felt some of his tension ease, thinking about how soft and delicate she looked in the moment. “Should I take them with us, or leave them here?”

“Let’s take them. I don’t want to linger.” The longer they stayed, the bigger the chance they would be followed.

They found a small balcony that seemed more like a glorified window seat to watch the sunset while they ate their little picnic. Harry pulled out a box of truffles he’d bought in Honeydukes to share. He drew it out as long as he could, but eventually, the last morsel was consumed.

And then Ginny’s mouth found his. He didn’t know how to shut his brain off, to stop analysing each sweep of her tongue. He wanted to relax into it, to let it wash over him like it used to. Instead, he drove himself spare trying to pinpoint what, exactly, was different now from then. 

Her hand drifted down his chest and around his hip. “Harry,” she whispered. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” he said automatically.

She smiled at him and caressed his cheek. “It just seems unreal sometimes. I can’t believe it’s all over and we’re here together.” She rested her head on his shoulder and settled herself more comfortably in his lap. 

This, he could manage. He loved holding her and feeling the warmth of her body against his. But then her tongue was in his mouth and he tensed, wanting so badly to pull away. The feeling only intensified when she pulled his shirt free of his trousers and caressed the skin of his back. He finally had to lean away, pulling her hands from his shirt. 

“Shit, sorry,” she said, “I’m sorry. I know you said you wanted to take things slowly. I just - I don’t know how slowly.” She smiled kindly, then her eyes dropped to their joined hands. “I’ve missed you. Needed you.”

“I’m sorry… I’ve been…”

“No, it’s fine. You don’t have to explain. Or - I’m just sorry if I’m pushing too hard. I need to tell you...” She hesitated a moment and said, “I didn’t wait for you.”

“Wait for me for what?”

“Last year. When things were so… just so awful all the time. There was someone else. I was with someone else,” she said in a rush. “More than one, actually.” She bit her lip and waited for his reaction.

But it was slow in coming. Was she implying what it seemed? And how did Harry feel about Ginny with someone else? He remembered seeing Ginny with Dean, back in sixth year, and the roar of rage from the jealous monster inside. But nothing happened this time.

She took his hesitation for disapproval. “I just needed… to feel alive. I was so afraid that we were going to die or - or I just needed - we were so scared and I wanted to be not-scared for a while.”

“Yeah… that’s… I mean, I get it and that’s… it’s okay Ginny. I didn’t - we didn’t know what would happen and we didn’t make any promises or anything. If someone else helped you get through last year, that’s - well, that’s good.” 

He’d said the right thing, judging by the way her shoulders dropped in relief. But he definitely needed to think that over in private.

“I felt guilty, sitting on that secret. Glad it’s out now.” She squeezed his hands, “What about you? Was there - anyone else?”

“Erm… no… It was just Ron and Hermione all that time, you know?”

“Right, yeah…” She kissed him lightly. “I guess, I thought maybe you were pining or something. And that was why you didn’t… why you wanted to take things slowly.”

“What? No! No, there wasn’t… there hasn’t been anyone else.” Harry ran his fingers through his hair, surprised all over again to find the locks shortened.

“No one in Australia either?”

“No, we were helping Hermione with her parents. Sleeping all the time. Or flying.”

“Okay,” she said quietly, looking down at her lap again.

“Hey,” Harry whispered, ducking his head to meet her eyes. “Hey, it’s really okay you were with someone else. I don’t need to be with someone else just to even a score we aren’t even keeping. It’s us now and that’s all that matters, all right?”

She gave him a small smile and nodded. “I love you. I never really stopped, never could let go of you completely. And I’m so happy to have you back when I lost so much.”

“Me too,” he said, pulling her in for a hug.

But fuck if a hug didn’t always lead to a kiss. This time he let it go on, knowing Ginny needed this reassurance. And if she noticed he didn’t get hard from it, she didn’t say.

\--------

His date left him unsettled, giving him an unfulfilling night of restless sleep. He woke unsurprised to find his pyjamas had unshrunk themselves in the night. 

“Harry, what are you wearing?” Ernie asked with a laugh as Harry emerged from his bed.

“My pjs,” he said, looking down at the billowing fabric. “Sometimes my magic dissolves the spells that make them fit. They used to be my cousin’s.”

“And is your cousin an erumpent?”

“Yeah, sort of,” Harry grinned.

Zabini spoke up from his bed, “That’s a lot of fabric to tailor in. Doesn’t the magic itch?”

“Er, yeah but you get used to it, I guess. Only sometimes, I’m sleeping badly and my magic decides enough is enough.” Harry dug through his trunk for clothes, hoping both of them would drop the subject entirely. “Where’s Kevin? Is he up already?”

“He’s in Hogsmeade all weekend with his girlfriend,” Ernie said.

“How’d he swing that?” Harry couldn’t remember anything in the rules about overnights in Hogsmeade but couldn’t imagine anyone would allow it, no matter the students’ ages.

“Must have dirt on McGonagall.”

Harry shook his head, not even able to imagine what sort of secret one might have on someone like McGonagall. He went to the bathroom to relieve himself and brush his teeth. His hair looked wild this morning, but still remained in its styled cut. Although it had been years since his accidental magic regrew his hair, he’d secretly worried he’d spend the rest of his life with the usual shaggy mess.

Unfortunately, fixing his hair did not seem to be one of Harry’s skills. The witch in the salon made it look so easy. A few drops of hair product, a spell or two, and boom! Beautiful hair. No matter what Harry did, it seemed flat on one side and this one lock wouldn’t lie with the others. He huffed a sigh as a knock sounded. 

“Time’s up, Potter.”

Harry grimaced at his reflection then opened the door to a waiting Zabini. “Yeah, sorry. I was trying to fix my hair but I think it’s a lost cause.”

Zabini pursed his lips. “Did you try wetting it first?”

“Erm…”

Zabini made an exasperated sound then pushed Harry towards the sink and mirror. “Didn’t someone show you how to fix it?”

“Yeah but… it’s not working.”

“Well, if you’re going to shower at night…”

It only took a few minutes, but Zabini’s brief lecture and demonstration of a few spells helped Harry look like a real person instead of a caricature. The short interaction had the makings of something truly awkward until Harry said, “Thanks, Zabini.”

He got a gruff, “You’re welcome,” in return and then Zabini held the door open for Harry and said in clipped tones, “Now if you would, please, we’re running out of time before breakfast.”

All in all, not a bad start to the day. 

\--------

By Tuesday afternoon, all the eighth years had attended one of each of their lessons and everyone had a collection of syllabi to work through. Professor Mason, teaching Defence on Mondays, had been in Spell Development for the Ministry for the last eighteen years and seemed excited to try a new career. Professor Willoughby, teaching Potions, had recently retired from his job brewing for St Mungo’s and had no idea what to do with a group of teenagers that hadn’t brewed much of anything over the last year.

By Wednesday afternoon, several small groups of eighth years had been kicked out of the library for being too rowdy. They’d taken to using their classroom for study time, but it became a confusing jumble of quiet reading and loud practicals. 

By Friday afternoon, Terry Boot and Michael Corner had set up a study timetable for the group’s classroom, outlining when the room could be used for practicals, and when it could be used for quiet study.

“I think it’s a great idea,” Hermione said as they headed to the Great Hall for dinner. She rolled up the timetable and tucked it into the beaded bag hanging from her wrist.

Ron snorted. “Of course you do. I’m sure I will too, once reality has sunk in.”

“How has it not sunk in yet?”

“I don’t know, but we’ve got the whole year ahead of us and those lists are daunting. I like my denial bubble quite a bit, thank you very much.”

“It just needs to feel routine,” Harry said. “I’m sure once we start following the timetable next week, it’ll be fine.”

Hermione turned a frown on Harry, “Next week? What about this weekend?”

“This weekend I’m going to enjoy my last bit of free time.” Harry grinned as Ron agreed with a high five slap. Hermione rolled her eyes but gave them both a fond smile that Harry hoped meant she wouldn’t interfere.

He went flying with Ginny that evening, to enjoy their last few days before the Quidditch season began and she was busy flying for the House team. They laid together in the grass, staring at the evening sky and talking idly about classes and Quidditch. He felt happier than he had in weeks, right up until she smiled and rolled into him for a kiss. 

To some extent, his body knew what to do. His tongue moved along hers, as it always had. His hands held her close, as they always had. When she rocked into him, he pressed back. But a black fog of denial hovered at the edges of his senses. He didn’t really want this and didn’t know how to push her away without hurting her feelings. He shortened the kisses until they became the gentle pressing of lips against lips.

Ginny picked up on his reluctance and laid her head on his shoulder to watch the stars again. Harry felt a little guilty they couldn’t have more, but he still needed time to heal and feel right in his skin. At the eighth years’ corridor, Ginny gave him one last sad smile and a soft parting kiss that demanded nothing from Harry that he couldn’t deliver.

Buzzing with nervous energy that had no outlet, Harry hurried to his room, glad he didn’t have to walk through the common room to get there. Just inside the door, he pulled up short at the sight of Zabini, Nott, and Malfoy laughing about something on Zabini’s bed.

“Oh,” he said suddenly. “Sorry, don’t mind me. I’m just going to get a shower and then,” he gestured vaguely at the common room. 

“We can leave,” Zabini offered, looking at the two boys sitting with him. “Entwhistle’s visiting his girlfriend this weekend and Macmillan’s in the common room. We thought you’d be later.”

Harry felt himself redden. “No, it’s fine. I’m just going to shower. Just do whatever - whatever you were doing.” He pulled clothes at random from his trunk and slammed the door to the bathroom behind him.

What a fucking mess of an evening. Ginny had left disappointed _again_ and Harry had some inner streak of rage at her solemn understanding of his issues. _Fucking prick_ , he mentally yelled at himself. One inappropriate erection after another for years and then when he really needed one, nothing.

He tore his shirt off and kicked his shoes at the wall, but nothing slammed around satisfyingly enough. He wanted to pound something into the ground, but where could he find something like that in the bathroom? Thankfully, ten minutes soaking in the hot water brought his flare of anger to a low simmer. Things with Ginny would work themselves out and worrying about it just made him feel worse. He put on his t-shirt and pyjama bottoms despite the irritating prickle on his skin and moved quickly through his room, avoiding eye contact with the Slytherin boys entirely.

Although the common room overflowed with lights and people Harry didn't want to see, he squirmed between Ron and the end of the sofa, forcing Ron into Hermione so that she ended up half in his lap to avoid sitting on Susan. 

“You all right?” Ron asked.

“I could use a drink,” Harry said as a joke. He’d heard the phrase often enough growing up and finally understood the sentiment, even if he wasn’t in the habit of consuming alcohol. 

Surprisingly, a bottle landed in his lap. Seamus grinned at him. “You’re in luck. My cousin Collin just sent it. A test run, of sorts. Came through just fine so he’s going to try a bigger bottle next time.”

Harry eyed the tiny bottle filled with a clear liquid. “What is it?”

“Strawberry vodka.”

“Nice.” Harry didn’t even care, so he didn’t know why he asked. He uncapped the little bottle and took a hefty swig that burned on its way down. Before he could take a second drink, the bottle flew from his hands as Seamus summoned it back.

“Sorry, Harry,” he said sheepishly. “‘Chosen One’ or not, that little bottle’s all we’ve got so only little sips for everyone.”

“Yeah, well, this night just keeps getting better and better.” Harry slouched on the sofa and closed his eyes to feel the alcohol hit his system. But closing his eyes just made him hyper aware of everyone in the room. “You know what? Actually, I’m tired and I’m going to bed.”

“You all right, mate?” Ron asked.

“Yeah just tired.”

Harry walked down the hall but hesitated at his bedroom door. The Slytherins didn’t have many places to hang out alone, and he hated to disturb them. Perhaps he should work on bridging that gap but not tonight, when he felt too weary to guard his mouth.

Instead he continued down the hall and around the corner to the eighth years’ classroom. At this time of night, it was empty so Harry transfigured his wooden chair into something wide and squishy. One of his textbooks transfigured nicely into a firm pillow. He turned the chair so he could see out the fake window to the fake night sky.

He let his thoughts drift until his mind felt blank and calm. Hoping this time the results would be different, he slipped his hand into his pyjama bottoms to lightly stroke his cock. Worry and tension tried to come back but he forced those thoughts away. It didn’t matter if it worked or not, he told himself over and over again. It was just a spot of fun.

Just for fun. Just because it felt nice. He sighed in relief at the light stir of interest as his cock thickened. Unbidden, images came to him of Ginny. The bright shine of her eyes, her wide smile. The feel of her body pressed to his. And that one time his thumb had brushed the underside of her breast.

For the millionth time, he imagined what her breasts looked like. Creamy and pale like the rest of her. Maybe lightly freckled. He thought of her straddling his hips, with his face buried in the soft flesh. The way her body would arch against his, pressing a nipple into his mouth.

But nothing happened. His cock stayed half-hard with no interest in his imaginings. The reality was he wouldn’t know what to do with her breasts even if he saw them. Maybe he just needed to actually _see_ them and his body would react properly. She’d probably show them to him if he asked.

He pulled his hand from his pyjamas with a heavy sigh. What a fucking mess, and not the good kind that called for a cleaning charm.

All he wanted now was to curl up in his bed and drift off to sleep so he could start another disappointing day tomorrow. Unwilling to leave the quiet of the classroom, he pulled off his shirt and relaxed the shrinking spell, then transfigured it into a fluffy blanket. Curled up in its warmth, he closed his eyes and let himself drift in the silence.

He jerked awake to the sound of the door opening. His wand! Where was his -

“Potter! What are you doing here?”

Oh, Zabini. Harry sank back into the cushions. “Resting. What are you doing here?”

“I needed one of the books I left here.” Zabini crossed to the bookshelves and pulled one off. “You don’t have to sleep here, you know. You can go back to your own bed. We can always go somewhere else. Here, for instance.”

“I told you it was fine.” Harry shuffled in his chair, trying to get comfortable again. “It’s quiet here.”

“Well it won’t be, come morning. Boot, Goldstein, and Corner like to get an early start.”

“Even on a Saturday morning?”

“Didn’t you read the timetable they handed out?”

Harry stood with a sigh and bundled up his blanket. “Not closely enough I guess. This day… I swear,” he grumbled.

Zabini hesitated as Harry passed him, looking unsure whether he should walk with Harry or not. But they were both going to the same place. Harry waited in the hall until Zabini came out and closed the classroom door.

They walked in silence around the corner to their own dorm, with Harry clutching the blanket tighter to his chest. He wished he’d taken the time to transfigure it back to a shirt so he didn’t feel so exposed. Zabini had already seen the faded old t-shirt fit for an erumpent. But Harry persisted, shirtless, until they returned to their room.

“Goodnight, Zabini,” he said as he crawled into bed.

“Goodnight, Potter.”

Harry closed the curtains, feeling oddly shaky.


	2. Chapter 2

Using studying as an easy excuse, Harry hid himself from Ginny in the classroom along with the other studious eighth year students. His soft armchair from last night remained, and the idea caught on quickly. They sat in a loose circle of varying sorts of soft chairs, trading books and notes, and carefully writing down points of interest.

When the group left for lunch, Harry lagged behind as far as he dared without being obvious. He didn’t know what to say to Ginny after last night. She wouldn’t want to talk about the previous evening’s lackluster performance over lunch, right?

Making a quick decision, he called out to no one in particular, “Oh I forgot something!” and ran for the stairs back to the eighth years’ hallway. He’d think up some excuse later. For now, he just wanted to enjoy his empty dorm.

But of course it wasn’t empty. All six Slytherins were there, three on Zabini’s bed and three on Kevin’s bed. The girls ignored him, staring with far too much intent on their textbooks. Nott looked to Malfoy and Zabini for guidance.

Harry spoke first, “I thought… It’s lunch time. Are you lot not going to lunch?”

“Oh, is it lunch time?” Zabini pulled his pocket watch from the pocket of his robe. “Thank fuck, I’m done with this shit.”

Harry nervously laughed at the expletives that perfectly conveyed his own feelings about their school work. He hadn’t expected something like that from someone who always spoke so carefully.

As they hurried to pack up their things, Harry sat on the edge of his bed. He’d be curling up inside it as soon as they left. But Zabini noticed and asked, “Aren’t you going to lunch?”

“Erm, no. Not right now. I’m just not hungry.”

Zabini let Nott and Malfoy follow the girls out, but his gaze stayed on Harry. “Not to be rude, but you don’t look like you should be missing meals and I know you already missed breakfast.”

“I got something from the kitchens. I’ll get something later.” Harry kicked off his trainers and pulled the covers back on his bed. “It was kind of a rough night so I’m going to take a nap.”

“I can bring you something, if you like.”

This would be a good opportunity for an ‘accidental’ poisoning. Or maybe Zabini just wanted to be nice. “Oh, thanks.” Harry hesitated. “Erm… if anyone asks where I’m at…”

“We didn’t see you.”

Harry sighed in relief. “Great, thanks. Again.”

When Harry woke an hour later, a sandwich, an apple, and a bowl of chocolate pudding sat under a stasis charm on his bedside table.

It was a small gesture, but enough that when Seamus put together a group to go flying on Sunday, Harry extended the invitation to the Slytherin side of the common room. Although they politely declined, Harry felt it was at least a start.

\--------

During the next week, the students mostly stuck to their new self-imposed schedule. Each morning they had practicals right after breakfast. Then their scheduled lessons, lunch, and for some, more lessons. Word got around to the professors about their squashy armchairs, and they agreed the students could keep them for class. Professor Dimple even praised their Transfiguration skills. And so the classroom took on a comfortable, yet studious air.

The afternoons were for quiet study and research until the rest of the students were free of classes. Evenings in the classroom became a mix of practicals and casual study, while evenings in the common room were for forgetting they were students at school. Board games, mugs of tea, and bursts of loud laughter came from every corner. Harry and Ron found time to fly nearly every day, keeping Harry from feeling overwhelmed with work.

On Wednesday afternoon, Ron nudged Harry. “Hey, it’s almost three. We promised Gin we’d meet her on the pitch for Gryffindor tryouts. Want to take our brooms in case there’s a chance to fly after?”

“Yeah sure,” Harry readily agreed. “Let me get mine.” Although he hated the way people stared when he and Ginny appeared together in public, he had an easier time managing that level of intimacy. No deep snogging or expectations he couldn’t meet, and they both left happy.

“Great, I’ll get Hermione and we’ll meet you by the stairs.”

Harry inwardly sighed. If Hermione tagged along, it would be a Ron-and-Hermione event with Harry as third wheel, instead of the Ron-and-Harry event he thought it would be. And Ron always cut things short when Hermione came with them, because he felt bad for her sitting on the sidelines watching, no matter how many books she brought with her to keep her happily occupied.

As soon as Ginny saw them entering the pitch, her smile lit up like the sun. Harry welcomed her hug, closing his eyes to savour the warmth of another body against his. She held tight to his hand as they crossed to the group of students waiting to fly.

“I’m so glad you came! You too, Ron. We’re on a tight schedule, trying to fit everything in before dinner. But if we finish in time, we might have a casual fly.”

“Great, yeah, we brought our brooms just in case.” He kissed her cheek. “Good luck.”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione climbed the stairs to the lower stands while Ginny sorted the potential players. So many were out of practice and out of shape after a year of no Quidditch at all that it made it easy to pinpoint the players who had trained over the summer and would be a valuable asset to the team. 

They only had time for a few laps of the pitch before dinner, but it cleared Harry’s head like nothing else could. On the walk back, Ginny went over her notes with Harry and Ron, and made a short list of potentials for a second practice on Saturday afternoon.

He hardly got a chance to talk to Ginny over dinner around the excited potential players eager to hear their captain’s plans. Harry scanned the Great Hall and noticed the change in the students. The eighth years had grouped themselves together more, no longer standing guard as they had only a few weeks ago. He also noticed the six Slytherins were still knotted tightly together, and separated from the rest of their House. Even the seventh years seemed to avoid them.

It was a problem for another day. Right now, he had to sort himself out. He took Ginny’s hand and walked with her up the stairs towards Gryffindor Tower.

“You’re sure you don’t want to go to the library together?” he asked. Things had gone so well over the afternoon, he hated to let it go.

She sighed, “I want to, if only so I can spend more time with you, but I’ll never finish anything with you looking like… you.”

“Are you saying I’m a sexy distraction?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows and trying to eye her suggestively.

Her laughter rang off the stone walls. “Not when you try something like that!”

“Eh, that’s fine. I’ve got homework I don’t need distracting from too,” he said reluctantly. “Even if I don’t care about any of those classes anyway. You’re the only reason I came back to school.”

“What about auror training? You’ll need NEWTs for that, right?”

“Kingsley said he’d let me in any time I wanted, no NEWTs required. But honestly… I’m not sure I want that anymore.” He’d mentioned it to Ron once or twice and Ron seemed to be in agreement. They’d fought enough to last a lifetime, and that drive had drained right out of him. He side-eyed Ginny to gauge her reaction.

Thankfully, she was smiling. “That’s good. Brilliant, really. I don’t have to worry anymore about a late-night floo call saying you’re in the hospital… or worse.” She squeezed his hand to draw his eyes to hers. “Do you know what else you might do?”

“Not really.” Career advising back in fifth year hadn’t been extensive and Harry didn’t know what kind of work he wanted now that he wasn’t in a constant fight for his life and freedom.

“That’s all right,” Ginny said with a teasing smile. “You’ll have a fit Quidditch-star girlfriend to support you so it’s not like you’ll _need_ to work.”

Harry pulled her closer to kiss her cheek. “Mm, a sexy sugar-mama to keep me in the life I am accustomed to. Sounds nice. I can try one outrageous hobby after another trying to ‘find myself’ while you train all day. Maybe I’ll develop a baking habit so you can have sweet treats to come home to.”

“You’re my favourite sweet treat.”

He gave her a coy little smile, “Oh you! I bet you say that to all the boys.”

“Just you,” she grinned with a little kiss to his cheek. They walked up the last staircase, swinging their joined hands together. “Thanks for coming to the try-outs.”

“You did a great job. It’ll be rough, putting a good team together after last year. But you’re a great captain and if anyone can do it, it’s you.”

She stopped by the portrait of the Fat Lady and gave Harry a long hug. “We’re flying again Saturday. We have the afternoon slot, three to five o’clock. Want to join us then too?”

“I’d love to.” He kissed the top of her head. “I think some of us are going to Hogsmeade again, but we’ll be back by then.”

“Brilliant.” She tilted her head up for a kiss on the lips and Harry obliged. “Goodnight, love.”

“Goodnight.” One last kiss and Ginny turned to whisper the password to the Fat Lady.

Harry happily skipped down the stairs, trying to keep hold of the warmth inside. From Quidditch practice, to dinner, to the Tower, everything had gone swimmingly. The happiness, so reminiscent of their time together in sixth year, reassured Harry that he was getting better.

He hummed happily as he entered his room, no longer surprised to see Zabini’s bed covered in Slytherins. The Gryffindor boys tended to group together in Seamus and Ron’s room. Kevin spent all his spare time in Hogsmeade now that his girlfriend moved there to be closer to him, and Ernie preferred the common room. That left their room empty enough for the Slytherins to gather in.

Zabini and Malfoy both nodded a hello as Harry came in. “Potter. Good practice?” Zabini asked.

“Yeah I think so. It’ll take time to really tell but it seems like a good team.”

Zabini made a non-committal sound and turned back to his book. Malfoy glanced at Harry a few seconds longer, then also turned his attention away. 

Harry looked through his trunk for clean pyjamas. “Some of us are going to Hogsmeade tomorrow. No reason why, just fun. Probably lunch at the Three Broomsticks. You lot want to come along?” He needlessly rifled through his clothes to give them time to think on it.

“Probably not,” Zabini finally said. “But thank you for the invitation.”

“The invitation is open,” Harry said on his way to the bathroom, “if you change your mind.” 

Despite the grey overcast sky, a group of eighth years went on to Hogsmeade for lunch anyway. There wasn’t any shopping to do, or any plan at all really, but Harry enjoyed the time spent away from the castle. While Ron and Hermione went for a walk alone, Harry followed Ernie and Justin to Honeydukes. The two of them had an open and honest smuggling ring going on with the younger years too anxious to wait for the first school trip to Hogsmeade. And Harry just wanted to buy more treats for Ginny.

Outside the Hogsmeade Owlery, Harry ran into Seamus, who grinned from ear to ear. “My cousin came through again,” he said, holding up a plain brown box.

Harry returned the grin. “Does this mean a common room party later?”

“More like a little Gryffindor reunion. He’s building up to something bigger. For now, my room around nine?”

Getting tipsy with the boys sounded exactly like the kind of fun Harry wanted to have on a Saturday night. He’d missed out on the worry-free fun other teens experienced and wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity now.

But first, a date with his lovely girlfriend.

At three o’clock he met the Gryffindor Quidditch team on the pitch. Ginny divided them into first and second strings, then ran them through several drills and formations. They flew pretty well, even with the misty rain complicating things. Harry flew with them, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible.

They landed in a clump near the changing rooms for one last pep talk from their captain. Harry lifted his shirt to wipe away the rain from his face, and made a mental note to renew the impervious charm on his glasses. Ritchie Coote, one of the beaters, went a step further and took his shirt off completely to wipe his face clean while he listened to Ginny. Most beaters were thick and stocky, but Ritchie had a tall, lean physique that made Harry feel woefully inadequate. 

Over the summer, Harry had slowly started regaining the weight he’d lost over last year. But he knew he still had a ways to go to lose the scrawny, underfed look he’d had for most of his life. He watched Ritchie paying such close attention to Ginny and wondered briefly if he was one of the boys Ginny had slept with last year. 

He could easily imagine them together. Talking about Quidditch, or after a fly… in the changing room alone, Ritchie pressed against Ginny. His hips rocking into hers. Maybe his dick was tiny, Harry thought spitefully. It seemed only fair if he was going to have a body like that. Although his abs were tight enough he could probably drive it in like -

“Harry!” he heard Ginny yell.

“What?!”

Ginny laughed. “Where were you just then? We’re heading back.” She pointed over her shoulder at the rest of the team leaving the pitch.

“I don’t know. Nothing.” He took her hand and followed her up the path to school. “You did a good job with practice.”

“I’m so excited! I think Paulina’s going to be a great keeper. She used to play keeper against her brothers, just like I did. But she liked it and got much better at it than I did.”

“I’m glad to see Demelza’s still flying. And Ritchie too. He’s lost the weedy look he had when I was captain.”

“Yeah, some of us tried to keep our skills up, even though there wasn’t much opportunity for flying last year. I’m hoping it gives us an edge this year. Winning the Quidditch cup, or even a few big wins, will impress the scouts.”

They talked about Quidditch and the Holyhead Harpies until they parted ways for their rooms. Harry washed off the rain, sweat, and dirt, then rejoined Ginny for dinner in the Great Hall. Ron wanted to hear all about practice and what they thought of Gryffindor’s chances for the Quidditch cup.

The afternoon’s misty rain turned into a heavy downpour that kept all the students inside, making it impossible for Ginny and Harry to find a quiet, private place to spend time together after dinner. 

“Unbelievable!” Ginny grumbled after they closed the door on the third occupied classroom. “Why can’t everyone go back to their common rooms?”

Harry pulled her close enough to wrap an arm around her waist while they walked. “It’s fine, this is nice too, right?”

“I guess? I was just hoping… Flying always makes me… you know.” She went up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “But yes, this is nice too.”

“I remember our first kiss. That day Gryffindor won the Quidditch cup. I had been so scared Ron was going to kill me when he found out I fancied you.”

“I was so sick of waiting for you to make your move. You were always so bold, I worried maybe you weren’t as interested as I thought. But then sometimes… I’d catch you staring…”

“You were worth staring at. Still are.” He hugged her tightly and continued walking them down the corridor again. “It’s a shame my map doesn’t work anymore so we can find an empty space for us. I think the damage from the final battle messed up something in the map’s magic.”

“Do you think you can fix it?”

“I doubt it. I don’t even know what kinds of spells are in it. But I’ll keep it anyway. Some kind of legacy from my dad.”

Harry walked Ginny back to the Tower for curfew. Despite his words, he couldn’t really regret the extra students in the castle. Ginny left in a much better mood when things weren’t ruined with Harry’s intimacy problems. If only he knew how to fix it.

In Seamus and Ron’s room, he found all four Gryffindor boys with goofy grins and bottles of pumpkin juice.

“Harry!” Seamus cried when he opened the door. “You’re just in time!” He tossed a flask at Harry. “We’re enjoying my cousin Collin’s gift!”

“Here,” Dean said, holding out a bottle of pumpkin juice to Harry. “We’re diluting it in the bottle. Except for Seamus who’s already had a few sips too many.”

“What is it this time?”

“Rum. It’s delicious in the pumpkin juice.”

“How’d the date with Ginny go?” Ron asked.

Harry grinned, “It went great this time. Castle’s a little crowded right now so it was hard to find a quiet place, but we walked and talked and I don’t know, it was nice.”

“So you haven’t…” Seamus made a rude hand gesture.

Ron reddened and flicked his wand at Seamus. Harry didn’t know what spell he cast, but it made Seamus fall over, squealing like a pig. “That is none of our business or anything I want to hear about ever.”

“We just went for a walk and talked about whatever for a while.”

“Boring! So, Lisa got what she wanted from me and then dumped my arse so I’m on the lookout for someone new. I was thinking of Lavender again. Whatever we started last year was kind of interrupted by a battlefield. Thoughts?”

Seamus spent the next hour constantly topping off their pumpkin juice bottles until the flask emptied. Harry returned to his room with a light buzz, feeling content from a date that finally went well, and all the laughter from friends he spent all his time with and yet not enough time with at all.

In the doorway to his room, he almost ran into Malfoy, who was on his way out. He couldn’t help giving Malfoy a once over. A hot wave shot through Harry, making him frown in confusion. “Are those - are those muggle pyjamas? I thought you lot wore night shirts all the time.”

“Erm, yes,” Malfoy said hesitantly, tugging at his fitted henley. He cleared his throat and glanced at Zabini before continuing, “We do, or I did, but…” A flush of pink bloomed on his cheeks. “I’ve actually got quite a bit of muggle clothing now. I find these more comfortable for sleeping.”

“That’s… yeah, okay.” Harry shook his head, trying to clear it, and stepped out of the doorway. “Erm, goodnight Malfoy.” As Malfoy eased around him, Harry said, “Oh! Nev and Dean are still there so… I guess just… letting you know?”

“Right, thank you.” 

Harry closed the door behind him and said, “Wow. Malfoy in muggle clothes. How’d that happen?”

Zabini frowned at Harry and he wondered if he’d overstepped his bounds by asking. But then Zabini said, “He had to take a muggle studies type of course over the summer. As part of his probation.”

“Oh, right. I didn’t know.” Adrenaline coursed through Harry and his chest felt tight enough that his breath didn’t come easily. He shouldn’t have asked about it, should have let Malfoy keep his secrets.

But the sight of him in muggle pyjamas, a dark grey henley t-shirt and green and grey plaid flannel pyjama bottoms, made Harry feel jittery and confused. All the strictly wizarding boys he knew wore night shirts for sleeping, even Ron occasionally. He figured Ron was the exception because of his dad’s work with muggles. He had a hard time shaking the image of Malfoy in muggle clothes.

Sunday dawned bright and sunny, although the temperature definitely indicated summer had ended and autumn was settling in. Despite the mushy grounds, students left the castle after lunch to enjoy one of the last nice days of the season.

And this left plenty of empty classrooms for Harry and Ginny to fool around in.

At first there were the soft, easy kisses he loved. But Ginny quickly moved past that to the deeper kisses that tried to consume Harry. She straddled his lap in a wide wooden chair, leaving him no way to escape or subtly move away.

After several minutes, she rolled her hips against him, testing his reaction. With a sigh, she rested her head against his shoulder and whispered, “Nothing at all?”

“I’m sorry.” His arms came around her and rubbed slow circles down her back.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Harry. I read… it happens to a lot of guys. After trauma and all.”

“I see Hermione’s been handing out her helpful pamphlets.” He and the boys had spent entirely too much time laughing about it where Hermione couldn't see them.

Ginny laughed and smacked a loud kiss on his neck, then sat up with a concerned look. “Has it been like this since May?”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “All summer.”

“Even by yourself? Or are you wanking all right?”

“Ginny!” He laughed in a combination of shock and embarrassment. “I can’t believe you’re asking me that!”

Her concern melted into a teasing smile. “What? How else am I supposed to help you?” She laughed along with him and pinched him on the hip. “Tell me!” Pinch. “Are you having secret wank sessions behind closed curtains every night?” Pinch “Do you wake up rock hard and you can’t get out of bed because the other boys will see you?” Pinch.

“Ginny, bloody hell, stop!” Harry said through his laughter. “No! You naughty little witch!” His laughter faded. “No… none of that.”

“Okay. But when things change... you come find me.”

“Of course.”

“Even if I’m in class.”

He felt his smile growing wider. “Okay.”

“Or flying.”

“Okay.”

“Like, even if it’s an important Quidditch match, I want to know right away.”

“Okay,” he laughed.

“Because I will fake an injury and end that shit immediately if it means we’re going to shag.”

Harry snorted, “Okay, good to know where I rank on the priorities list.”

“Or if I’m in the shower.”

“Of course,” he said as she leaned in and skimmed a kiss along his neck.

“Soaking wet, suds running all down my body.” She faked an erotic moan into his ear. “You’d help me get all clean, wouldn’t you?” She licked along the seam of his lips and rolled her hips against him. 

He groaned in frustration because he certainly _wanted_ to want it. But all he could think about was bumping against cold tile in the cramped shower stall and the water hitting one or the other but never both of them so one of them would be left wet in the cold air and there would be soap everywhere making things slippery and dangerous and he’d probably end up on the bathroom floor with a concussion.

Sitting up straighter, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her fiercely, determined to make something happen, to force his body into some sort of reaction. But he ended with a sigh, kissing the soft skin of her neck and resting his head against her shoulder.

“It’s okay, love. Soon enough,” she said softly.

But of course it wasn’t okay. He shouldn’t be having problems like this at eighteen years old! Monday morning he groaned at the start of yet another week of classes. They weren’t even in October yet and Harry already wished for June. 

As Harry walked past Zabini’s bed, the other boy said, “Rough night?” while pointing at Harry’s large pyjama shirt.

“Oh,” Harry looked down at the faded striped shirt. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Do you think there’s a pattern to it?”

“Erm, yeah, when I have a hard time sleeping…”

“No,” Zabini forced a small smile that made Harry wary. “I mean… Maybe a better question would be, do you think there’s a pattern to your bad nights of sleep.”

Harry frowned while he thought over the last few weeks and the three or four times he’d woken with his pyjamas back to their original size. “Not really? Wait… do you? See a pattern?”

Zabini stiffened. “Probably not. Are you going to -” He pointed at the bathroom.

“Right, yeah. I’ll be quick.”

While he brushed his teeth and fixed his hair, Harry thought about the last month of school. Sure, he’d been under some stress since he returned and that would be enough to muck up his magic a little. He just needed more time to recover from his weight loss and settle into a routine so he could be healthier and stronger.

And wasn’t there a potion…? Yes! Looking over his list from Professor Willoughby, who had weighted the list with the medicinal potions he was accustomed to brewing, Harry found a nutrient potion given to patients having trouble eating.

Instead of going to their classroom for the regular practicals session, he went to the student lab to brew himself a nutrient potion. And if anyone asked, he could claim it was for his Potions class. 

After nearly an hour spent chopping and stirring, he ended up with an ugly green sludge that in no way resembled the bright green liquid he meant to make. Angrily he shoved at the cauldron, sending it skidding across the table to crash to the floor. Green gloop sprayed everywhere and Harry yelled, “Damn it!” to the empty room.

Just as he pulled his wand to vanish the mess, the door opened and Draco Malfoy and Theo Nott came in. They froze when they saw Harry, poised with his wand at the ready.

“Sorry,” Malfoy said. “We didn’t know you were using this room.”

“No, it’s fine. Stay,” Harry said, pointing with his wand at the mess. “I spilled my potion and now I’m - I’m just done,” he finished with a defeated sigh.

Nott and Malfoy looked at each other, then Nott asked, “What were you making?” He set his bag on one of the tables and looked at Harry as though he really wanted to know the answer.

Harry didn’t quite know how to react to the concern. He’d been in an odd kind of limbo with the Slytherins since school began. Old animosities felt worn and childish after everything that happened in May, and yet there was too much between them to really be friends. This strange truce meant they spoke politely to one another, while still avoiding each other whenever possible. 

And this time, they didn’t even have Zabini to act as a buffer. Harry stared at the mess on the floor, “It was a nutrient potion. For class. But it’s too thick and dark. Doesn’t really look safe to drink.”

Nott and Malfoy moved closer to observe the mess. “Especially not off the floor,” Nott said, sparking a laugh in Harry. The two boys stared at him in surprise, then traded small smiles.

“No, definitely not.” Harry vanished the mess and righted his cauldron. “I don’t even know what I did wrong.”

Nott picked up Harry’s notes and read them over with Malfoy. “Hm, this calls for Mandrake. But sometimes that means fresh, sometimes that means stewed.”

“It’s possible you used the wrong one,” Malfoy said with a glance at Harry. “Sometimes old-style recipes assume the brewer already knows which is which. It’s like a reminder of something they already know, rather than instructions for someone new.” He set the parchment down with Harry’s other notes. “If you used fresh this time, use stewed next time.”

“And make a note of it,” Nott added.

“Erm… thanks. That’s - that could be it.” Harry hesitated, scared his suggestion would be laughed off. “Would you - do you want to help me brew it? We could all get it marked off this week. Or, unless you have something else you were going to work on today?”

For a moment, Malfoy and Nott stared at each other in silence. Then they exchanged rapid words in French that Harry couldn’t hope to understand. Finally, Malfoy gave Harry a small smile. “We’d love to.” 

They moved carefully around each other while they chopped and stirred, keeping conversation strictly about the potion. They finished the hour with a brilliant green potion, exactly as described in Harry’s notes.

“Excellent!” Harry said as he bottled and labeled his. “I’m not crossing off these potions as quick as I’d like.”

“We brew here Monday and Thursday mornings,” Malfoy said. He glanced at Nott, who gave a tiny nod. “You’re welcome to join us if you like.”

“Oh, thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.” Harry set his bottle on the table and began stowing ingredients in his potions box. “Usually I work with Ron and Hermione, you know. But they’re… sometimes they’re busy.”

Malfoy and Nott bottled their own samples to turn in to Professor Willoughby. But then Malfoy made to vanish the remaining portion from the cauldron. “Wait!” Harry yelled. “I was… going to save the rest.”

“For what? You think Madam Pomfrey wants it?”

Harry’s throat tightened but he cleared it with a rough cough. “I was going to drink it,” he finally had to admit. As the two boys stared at him, he felt the press of magic on the seams of his clothes. He lifted his chin, silently daring them to comment on his scrawny appearance.

“Well,” Malfoy finally said, turning back to cleaning up with stiff movements, “it’ll work best taken between regular meals.”

Harry uncorked a large flask and filled it with the remains of the potion. Nott vanished the last residue and took it to the sink to wash clean. With the room all tidied up, the three boys left the lab.

“Thanks again,” Harry said as they walked down the corridor. 

“Any time,” Malfoy answered. 

Harry’s happiness over a morning well spent spilled out in a wide smile all through the morning’s Defence class. The potion tasted pleasantly sweet and the single flask lasted him three days. If he hadn’t had to turn half of it in for marking, one batch would likely last a whole week. He made a mental note to find time once a week to brew the potion until he’d finally regained the weight he’d lost.

He felt stronger already.

\--------

Finally, in mid-October, a Hogsmeade weekend opened up for the rest of the students. Harry begged Ginny to leave off her vigorous Quidditch training and join him for a proper date. Although it was too cold for a picnic, Harry bought one from the Three Broomsticks anyway and drew Ginny away to a secluded spot in the woods surrounding Hogsmeade. In minutes, he’d set up the charms he and Hermione had perfected over their months of horcrux hunting to make a warm, dry, and private space for lunch. 

As soon as she’d swallowed her last sip of butterbeer, Ginny attacked Harry with a white-hot kiss. Alarm bells went off in his head, making him stiffen in shock, but then his brain caught up to what was happening and he relaxed into it.

But _relaxing_ wasn’t the same as _enjoying_. Although his hands drew around her and pulled her close, his mind refused to float away and get lost in the moment. Even worse when she pushed his t-shirt up and over his head, and he had a wave of self-consciousness over the sharp jut of his rib bones.

“Harry,” she sighed as she ran a hand over the oval burn mark above his heart. “What happened?”

“Slytherin’s locket. The horcrux,” he answered hoarsely. He looked down at her fingers tracing the oval and he remembered the moment Ron smashed it with the Sword of Gryffindor. Another memory rose, as it frequently did when he thought about horcruxes. “I remembered you,” he blurted out. “In the Forest.”

“The forest?”

“Just before… before I…” His words trailed off and he swallowed heavily. “He called me the ‘Boy-who-lived’ and I knew I was going to die and - and I remembered. That fire in your eyes. Your lips pressed to mine.”

“Oh Harry,” she sighed again, more happily this time, and kissed him again. His breath caught when she sat back to pull off her own t-shirt. 

This was it. His moment. Surely now something would click into place in his body and things would start working again. But it was just a bra. A pale pink bra around her small breasts. Even when she kissed him again and her skin met his, it didn’t make him feel anything at all.

Ginny pushed his hands up her back, perhaps indicating he should unlatch the bra? It came as no surprise he had trouble, seeing as he knew fuck-all about women’s undergarments. She laughed and did it for him, letting the bra slip down her arms.

This moment he’d imagined a thousand times or more, and yet… He cupped one breast, bringing a smile to her face, and hoped that touching would be a way of drawing closer to Ginny. But the gulf between them seemed wider than it had before.

After what felt like an eternity of kisses and caresses, Harry had to admit defeat. He hated himself, and Ginny’s soft assurances that it was all right, that she still loved him, and that they would get through this.

They parted ways in the castle and Harry buried himself in his bed. He had a fitful nap, full of disjointed dreams of Bathilda Bagshot, the locket choking him in the lake, and the horrid images that came out of it right before Ron shattered it with the Sword of Gryffindor.

When he woke, his clothes had unshrunk themselves once again. Thinking of Zabini and his question about a pattern of behavior, Harry shrunk them back down before leaving his bed. He downed a double dose of his nutrient potion and skipped out on dinner.

He couldn’t bear to see Ginny right now.

\--------

Avoiding Ginny for the next week proved easier than Harry would have thought. The first Quidditch match of the season, Gryffindor against Slytherin, was coming up fast and she spent every spare moment training. The time they used to spend studying together, Harry now spent in the eighth years’ classroom.

But he couldn’t avoid her at meals. He occasionally ate in the kitchens instead, but couldn’t do that too often without arousing suspicion with Ron and Hermione. Sometimes Ginny would rest a hand on his thigh, or take his hand for a while, and Harry wished that could be enough between them. 

“Oi mate, want to go watch Gryffindor’s practice this afternoon?” Ron asked him on Thursday as they sat in the common room.

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Harry said, holding his book up. “I’m trying to finish this.”

“Finish it tomorrow. Come on, we haven’t been flying all week.”

“I know. Madam Pomfrey told me I should cut back on my flying. It’s burning calories I don’t have to burn.”

“All right fine, we don’t have to fly but we can hang out with the team, right?”

And watch Ritchie Coote and his tight abs flirt with Harry’s girlfriend? Not likely. “But my book…”

Ron sighed. “I don’t know why,” he held up his hands, “and you don’t have to tell me. But… Ginny’s noticed that you’re avoiding her.”

 _Fucking hell_ , Harry yelled in his head. He scanned the room, looking for someone to save him. Zabini met his eyes for a moment, then ducked his head. Pulling the sleeves of his flannel shirt over his hands, Harry stared at the ground sheepishly. “Honestly... it’s not been going so well between us.” 

“You seemed all right at lunch today.”

“Yeah I know.” Harry bit his lip against a torrent of words unfit for the common room. The public areas of their relationship were great. Harry loved sitting with her at lunchtime and walking hand-in-hand down the halls. At issue was the time they spent alone and Ron didn’t need to hear about that.

“It’s been like a month and a half, Harry. We fought a war, remember? It’s going to take time to straighten ourselves out. How are you going to do that if you won’t even talk to her?”

Harry covered his eyes and growled. “I don’t fucking _know_ all right? But I’m.. It’s hard being back here and everything. It’s not like it was in Australia. Not as easy.”

“Yeah, I get it. I feel the same way. But Ginny wants to help you. We all want to help you, help each other, right? Hermione said we should do what we can to get back to normal. Lessons and shit, flying and dating… all those things we should have been doing if there hadn’t been a war. Be a kid, Harry. Let yourself have fun.”

But it wasn’t about having fun or finishing his school work or trying to be normal. It was the never-ending ache behind his eyes and the tension he carried down his spine. It was the way his skin felt prickly and stretched too tight over his bones. It was the emptiness when he kissed Ginny and how all of him seized up in dread at the thought.

When Seamus called a gathering of Gryffindors that Friday, to share another ‘gift’ from his cousin Collin, Harry agreed wholeheartedly. And even better when there was enough for him to get properly sloshed.

“I’m never gonna get laid,” Harry whined into his nearly empty glass. 

Seamus laughed, “Harry Potter and the girl that wouldn’t put out.” Dean and Seamus fell into each other laughing.

Ron covered his ears and loudly sang, “La, la, la, la, I can’t hear you!” then also started giggling. 

Neville, half asleep, mumbled, “You’re Harry Potter. Saved us all. You should have whatever you want.”

“Nev’s right!” Seamus said too loudly. “If you want to get laid, you should definitely get laid.”

“Stop talking about Harry doing - things - to my sister!”

“Go get her right now,” Dean said. “She’ll love it, you showing up in the middle of the night. Super romantic.”

“It’s only like ten-thirty,” Neville said, but no one heard him.

“Yeah, I should go now. Everything’ll be fine if I do it now. I haven’t had too much to drink.” Harry defied his own words by nearly falling over as soon as he got to his feet. Seamus and Dean laughed even louder.

This would be brilliant. Harry would say something sweet and romantic and then Ginny would kiss him and he was so giddy right now that he wouldn’t have any problems and everything would work like it was supposed to and he could fix things with his girlfriend.

He only fell on the stairs twice, and it wasn’t until he arrived at the Fat Lady portrait that he realised he didn’t even know the password to get in and the girls’ staircase wouldn’t let him up anyway and where could they go to be alone and why didn’t he bring his Invisibility Cloak?

Harry pulled out his wand and swished it a few times, trying to get his patronus to appear. It had been difficult to come by since the war’s end but the hot flow of alcohol in his system made him feel like he could conquer Voldemort a third time. When his stag appeared, he asked it to please fetch Ginny for him.

The Fat Lady swung forward and Ginny appeared in her pyjamas and dressing gown. “Harry? Are you all right? I couldn’t understand anything your stag said.”

“I may have had a little to drink.” He held his thumb and forefinger an inch apart and held them to his eye, then laughed at the way his fingers framed Ginny’s face. “I’m squishing your head,” he said as he pinched his fingers open and closed.

Thankfully, Ginny laughed too, “Harry, you’re too much. Come on.” Looking both ways in the corridor, she led him away from Gryffindor and into a small, empty room. “What are you doing here?”

“I missed you.” He squished her cheeks. “I love your face.” He pressed her body against the wall and nuzzled into her neck. “And I want to get laid.”

“Harry!” She snorted and pushed him away. “You’re drunk off your arse and you think I’m going to let you have sex me?”

“We have to try. Now, when I think I can…” He looked down at his groin then up at her falling smile. “I have to work right.”

“Love, you’re too sloshed. Even if I could look past that, you’re probably too far gone to get it up.”

“No, I can. I know I can. We just need to… you know, get started.” He reached for her again but she easily dodged his hand.

Her face took on a more serious look. “Harry, we can’t. But I appreciate that when you’re drunk, I’m the one you think of.” She opened the door and checked the corridor again before pulling him out behind her. “I can’t let you go on your own, so I’ll walk you back to your corridor.”

“But Ginny…” he whined.

“No buts, Harry. Come on.” She took his hand and led him away.

After the first staircase, he sighed. “You’re so pretty.”

“Thank you.”

“I used to wank to you all the time.”

“Mm, very flattering,” she said with an eye roll.

He stopped walking to pull her close. “Please Ginny, I _know_ it’ll work this time. You smell so good and you feel so nice.” He kissed her neck and ran a hand down her back to squeeze her arse.

“Harry,” she said softly. “You’re drunk.”

“But I want you sober too, and doesn’t that count for something?”

“Harry,” she said again, but he could feel her resistance melting under his fingertips. 

“Just kiss me.”

He sighed in relief when she opened to him. The heat of her mouth sent his blood soaring, and at first, he thought it was going to work. He felt his cock thicken in his pants and wanted to shout in triumph. Images shuffled through his head of his body entwined with hers, along with imagining the slick slide of his cock in her welcoming body. He tugged her dressing gown open and cupped her breast over her nightgown.

“No,” he hissed, when that prickly tingle cascaded down his spine. He shuddered and wanted to pull away from her when her fingers skimmed the skin at his waist. In a desperate bid to overcome his body’s reluctance, his fingers gripped her hips with bruising force and he plunged his tongue deeper and harder into her mouth.

Ginny gave a sharp squeal of pain. She pushed him away and wiped at her mouth. “Are you all right?”

He shook his head, then groaned when the floor pitched under his feet. He fell to his knees and sighed, “No. _Fuck_.” He held his head in his hands and rocked himself back and forth. “I’m not all right. I'm probably never going to be all right.”

“Oh love, of course you are.” She knelt by his side and wrapped an arm around his waist. “It’s just going to take time -”

Whatever desire he had left in him soured into a self-directed rage. “I’m so fucking _sick_ of everyone telling me it’s going to be all right.” He shot to his feet and had to catch himself against the wall. “I haven’t been all right even once since I died!”

“Harry -”

“Don’t ‘Harry’ me! _Fuck_ You know what? I’m sorry I woke you up. Sorry I - I tried and failed again. Just - just go back to bed.”

He heard her yell his name as he ran away, but he didn’t stop. Being a little bit drunk meant he was willing to take risks she couldn’t, like skipping down three or four steps at a time. In moments, he’d eluded her completely.

In the boys’ toilet on the third floor, his stomach finally rebelled. He expelled the contents of his stomach and hoped it would be enough to sober him up a little. As he rinsed his mouth and splashed his face with water, he did his best to avoid his reflection. He wasn’t interested in what rock bottom looked like.

Unwilling to face his friends or dorm mates, Harry settled himself in his armchair in the eighth years’ classroom. He’d return to his room in the morning, or when he didn't feel so shaky, whichever came first. At some point he fell into a fitful sleep, which broke completely when the door opened with a soft whine.

“Potter?” a deep voice asked. “Oh good, there you are.”

Harry squinted in the darkened room to see who had found him. “Zabini?”

“Yes. You didn’t come back to the room. Weasley and Finnigan said you’d -” He cleared his throat. “They indicated you would be with Ginny Weasley.”

Harry turned away, back to staring out the window, even though the night was too dark to see anything. “Yeah, that didn’t go so well.”

“MacMillan is asleep and Entwhistle’s in Hogsmeade tonight, if you’d like to go to your own bed.”

“Yeah that’s probably for the best.” Harry certainly didn’t want to be found here by his classmates in the morning. He stood and immediately had to grab the chair for support. A pounding in his head blocked everything else out for a few moments. Before he could ask for help, Zabini had an arm around his waist. “Thanks.”

“I take it you didn’t impress Weasley with your drunken antics,” Zabini said as they shuffled towards the door.

“Yeah, that’s a definite ‘no’ on that one. Made an utter tit of myself.” He tripped over his own feet and nearly knocked the two of them over. “And it keeps getting better and better.”

“It’s all right,” Zabini said while he steadied Harry again. “We all need time to heal.”

“More time,” Harry sighed heavily. “Always more time.”

They stayed silent in their room, so as not to wake Ernie. Harry kicked off his trainers and crawled into bed with his regular clothes on. He acknowledged Zabini’s soft goodnight with a wave of his hand and was asleep by the time Zabini closed the curtains.

\--------

What he wanted to do was hide all weekend long and not have to talk to anyone. Unfortunately, he had loads of caring friends that wanted to assure themselves he was okay. 

He woke around eleven with not one, but _two_ breakfast plates on his bedside table, along with a hydrating potion to help with his hangover. Taking advantage of the empty dorm, he showered quickly and hid himself in his bed again.

Around an hour later, Ron and Hermione came to find him for lunch. “Thanks, but I’m not interested in seeing Ginny for lunch,” he said curtly.

Ron stared down at his feet and said, “She asked about you at breakfast.”

“She said you left kind of upset…” Hermione added.

“That was most definitely an understatement. I’m not sure things could have possibly gone worse. I’m going to kill Seamus for it too. Stupid git, egging me on like that.”

“What should we tell her?”

Harry sighed and ruffled his hair. “I don’t know. I’m still hung over? I’m too tired for all that noise? Maybe I’m spending the day in the classroom to catch up on things? I don’t care. Just don’t tell her I’m hiding from her.” He groaned at the ceiling. “This is a fucking nightmare!”

“It’s going to -”

“Don’t!” Harry interrupted. “Don’t tell me it’s going to be fine.” He rubbed his neck, trying to ease the ache building there.

Hermione and Ron looked like they might tackle him with hugs, but they knew when Harry couldn’t handle it, and finally left him alone. Seamus arrived next, bearing an offering of food and a less-than-sincere apology and the promise that next time he wouldn’t let Harry drink so much. Even if Seamus thought he needed to get drunk every once in a while.

That afternoon, Ernie and Ollie said they were going to fly with the Hufflepuff Quidditch team and invited Harry along because they’d heard about his rough night and thought he could use the fresh air. But Harry politely declined. 

Even Zabini, Malfoy, and Nott asked if he needed anything, perhaps a plate for dinner? That Harry accepted, and was surprised when the boys returned with four plates of food to share a slightly awkward picnic in the dorm with Harry.

Malfoy and Nott dominated the conversation with talk of the Potions class they shared with Harry, and the brews they wanted to work on during their Monday session. They looked over Harry’s list and found several options that Malfoy and Nott hadn’t completed yet. Plans were made to meet right after breakfast, and the three Slytherins left to return the empty plates to the kitchens.

It wasn’t until they were gone, and Harry felt lighter than he had all day, that he realised the Slytherins were the only ones to leave Harry’s horrible night to himself.


	3. Chapter 3

On Monday morning, Harry decided he couldn’t put it off any longer, and joined the others at the Gryffindor table for breakfast. Ginny smiled when she saw him and held him in a long hug as soon as he sat beside her. She kissed his cheek and offered him the plate of bacon, not mentioning the ugly way they’d parted on Friday.

Hermione greeted him with a nod and then, “Mandy said they’re going to be working on Professor Mason’s last two charms for securing a field against nogtails. So we’re meeting on the grounds behind Hagrid’s hut instead of in the classroom this morning.”

“I’m not going,” Harry said. “I’ve got other plans this morning.”

Ron looked confused. “Other plans? What other plans?”

“I’m meeting Malfoy and Nott in the lab, to work on the Potions list.” Shocked silence met this statement. Harry shrugged, “I need more help with my Potions work than I do with Defence and much as I hate to admit it, Malfoy and Nott are really good at Potions.”

“So… we’re playing nice with Slytherins now?” Ron asked slowly.

“Yeah, I guess,” Harry said with a shrug. “Zabini’s been… a really good dorm mate actually and they look like they need help integrating with the rest of the students.”

Ginny did not look pleased with his assessment. “Harry, they need help integrating because they were right bastards last year.”

“Well this is a new year and they look beaten down enough. We should all be done with carrying the weight of the world and our mistakes and all that shit. Zabini is making an effort, so I will too.”

“He called me a filthy blood traitor,” Ginny said, her frown deepening.

“Yeah well, it was that or be tortured so…” Harry picked up his fork and poked at his food. “I don’t know… It’s over now and I’m trying to put it all behind us.”

“Oh right! In that case, let’s be _best_ friends!” Ginny said sarcastically and rolled her eyes. “We can talk about how Nott is so good with Potions because of the variety of poisons he brewed last year for his Death Eater father to use on muggles! And Malfoy too? We can just forget the ugly things he said to you and Hermione, and the way he tortured little first years.”

An image came to Harry, seen through Voldemort’s eyes, of Draco Malfoy pale and terrified, trying to curse Rowle before he himself could be cursed. Before Harry could attempt a defence, Hermione spoke up first. “Actually… Malfoy apologised to me on our first day of Arithmancy.”

“And you just forgave him?” Ginny asked.

“Of course not,” Hermione scoffed. “But he’s largely ignored me since then and not done anything antagonising at all this year.”

“Yeah, well, it’s barely been two months.” Ginny scowled at the Slytherin table. “They were awful last year, and not just because of the Carrows. There were times they could have helped and no one would have noticed.”

“Millicent said,” Hermione paused when everyone looked at her in surprise at the friendly address. “We’ve talked quite a bit, since we’re sharing a dorm. She said their wands were checked frequently. To prevent healing spells on the younger kids. So… perhaps not as easy to help. Especially from a group of kids accustomed to magic for all things.”

“Look,” Harry said, “I just want to get started brewing my Potions list and Ron and Hermione are busy sometimes, and frankly the Ravenclaws don’t seem to have much patience. It’s either Slytherins or Ernie and he’s not as good as Nott and Malfoy.”

Ginny crossed her arms and glared. “I don’t think I like you being alone with them.”

A flare of irritation shot through Harry. “I know. But I’m a big boy with an excellent array of defence spells at my fingertips. Nothing’s going to happen.”

“Fine. But I’ll expect a full report at lunch time. They’d better behave themselves!”

“Yes mum,” Harry bit out. He stood and shouldered his bag. “I’ll see you lot later.” Instead of leaving, he crossed the Great Hall to the Slytherin table, just to annoy Ginny. He sat at the empty spot next to Nott and reached for a piece of toast. 

The six Slytherins stared at him silently until Zabini said, “Are you lost?”

“Ha, bloody, ha! I’m waiting for Nott and Malfoy. We’re still going to the lab before Defence this morning, right?”

Malfoy swallowed a large mouthful of toast and said, “Right. Yes, of course. I’m nearly done. Theo?”

Nott held up his cup of tea, then drained the last of it. “Ready when you are.”

They left the Great Hall together, amidst a spattering of harsh whispers. “Fuck them all,” Harry mumbled to himself.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing. Just talking to myself. I didn’t get to Hogsmeade this weekend to get ingredients so I’m not sure I have everything I need for this morning.”

“That’s all right,” Nott said, “we have plenty to share.”

Harry held open the door to the potions lab and followed the other two boys in. Malfoy set his bag on the table and glanced at Nott before saying, “We thought you were going to meet us here this morning.”

“I was. But then my friends made me mad and I wanted to prove a point.”

“What kind of point?”

Harry sighed down at the table, letting his thoughts gather. “Last year was…”

“I think we can all agree it was an absolute horror of a year,” Malfoy said bluntly.

“Yeah… They say you can’t be trusted, that you tortured the little kids and brewed poisons for the Death Eaters.”

Nott’s hesitancy dissolved into a calm, cool reserve. “We did,” he said stiffly, his back ramrod straight. “Everyone did.”

Harry felt a chill run down his spine at the change in their demeanor. “Look… I didn’t mean…”

“In my admittedly limited experience,” Nott interrupted, “there is a misconception among the ‘good guys’ that all the ‘bad guys’ have the same unswerving loyalty, only it’s to their madman overlord, instead of all that is good and pure.”

“I don’t think -” Harry tried again.

“When really,” Nott continued, “it’s an ever-shifting swirl of changing loyalties based on whatever or whoever will get you more. More money, more power, more of whatever you want. And it’s complicated. And difficult. And there isn’t a lot of room for mercy or anything soft and delicate.” He opened his potions box with a loud thunk of the lid on the table. “In a world of poison or be poisoned, I chose to poison.”

Malfoy reached a hand out to Nott, but Nott shook it off with a hiss. “I’ll get the rest from the cupboard.” Nott stomped off to the back of the room, slamming the supply cupboard door behind him.

“He’s probably going to need a minute,” Malfoy said quietly, turning to his potions box and fiddling with the bottles.

Harry reeled from the speech. That was more than he’d ever heard Nott say at one time. “Is he right?”

Malfoy laughed bitterly. “Of course he’s right. You know what my father was like. The politics, the deals. Everything was a negotiation. Until… it just wasn’t.” He chewed on his lip and scanned Harry’s face, then turned to his potions box again. “Everything was - so different this time. Or so he said.” Malfoy shook his head and set a fire under the cauldron. “My mother said everything changed when they had a son to raise.”

Harry scoffed. “Even before Voldemort’s return, your father seemed pretty keen on banishing muggles.” 

“Hm, right well… I’ve learned there’s a huge difference between ‘we’re better than them so let’s not consort with them’ and ‘we’re better than them so let’s kill them all.’ And with the kind of pressure the Dark Lord could apply…”

“Not easy, finding a way out.”

“Fucking impossible when he’s living in our house.”

They both fell silent when Nott returned, blank-faced yet tense. He set two bottles on the table and pulled his notebook from his backpack. “I found some older instructions that recommend mixing the salt water with -”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said quickly, ignoring the defeated sigh from Nott. “Sorry about last year, and that things are difficult for you this year.” Harry stared at Malfoy and let the memories of their rivalry swirl through his mind. The ugly words, the horrible hexes, the sneers and punches. One by one he let them go, willing his inner calm to rise to the surface. Silently begging Malfoy to do the same.

Malfoy cleared his throat and his gaze dropped to the ground. “I would have killed you, given the chance.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Harry said honestly. He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. “I died. In the forest that night. And in that moment… I was given a second chance. I can’t let myself live there forever. I have to believe things can be different now. We can _all_ be different now.” He held out his hand to shake. “We can start something new today.”

Slowly, Malfoy reached for his hand. He pumped it once, twice and nodded. “I’m sorry, too. For all of it.”

“I know. So am I.” Harry turned to Nott and held out his hand. “But it’s brand new, starting now.” Nott shook his hand as well. “Now… I think it’s time for brewing.”

Just before ten o’clock, they bottled their potion and cleaned up the lab, leaving them just enough time to get to their classroom for Defence with Professor Mason. Avoiding Ron and Hermione’s questioning looks, Harry whisked his armchair across the room to sit next to Malfoy, behind the loveseat with Nott and Tracey Davis in it. He tried to walk to lunch with them too, but was cornered by a group of curious Gryffindors.

Seamus spoke first, arms crossed and spitting mad. “You were serious? About making friends with those twats?”

“That’s derogatory,” Neville said. “Try ‘arseholes’ next time.” 

“Neville!” Harry said in surprise. He’d assumed Neville, who prized peace above all else, would be on his side.

“Sorry, Harry, but they were arseholes last year.” He stopped Harry objecting with a raised hand. “I realise you were under a lot of stress and difficulties too. But we were here in the thick of it and they made their choices, same as we did. We can’t all forget it as easily as you can.”

Harry followed sullenly as the group headed to the Great Hall for lunch. As expected, Ginny waited with arms crossed and a sour expression on her face to hear Harry’s report on the morning.

“Nothing happened. We chopped and stirred and we cleaned it all up, then we went to Defence. All right?”

“No, it’s not all right. I want to hear about it.”

Seamus called from a few seats down, “Why don’t you tell her about cosying up to the snakes during Defence. Practically shared a fucking loveseat with those twats.” He scrunched up his face when Neville threw a roll at him. “Sorry - arseholes.”

Ginny’s head whipped back to Harry. “You sat with them in Defence too?”

“Yeah I did. They’ve suffered enough.” Ginny scoffed at his words, but Harry ignored her. “And maybe if they’d been given some other options last year, it might have gone differently.”

“They had all the same options we did!”

“No, they fucking did not. I saw it. Voldemort, in Malfoy Manor.” Harry turned away from the pity seeping into Ginny’s eyes. “He made Draco torture one of the other Death Eaters. Torture or be tortured. Those were their options.”

“Figures they’d choose to save their own skin,” she mumbled with an eye roll.

Harry felt a hot wave of magic burn a trail down his arms and spark off his fingertips. The Gryffindors around him gasped and leaned away, but he was already rising and heading out the door. He heard Ginny call after him but that only made him move faster. He sprinted up the stairs, towards the eighth years’ corridor and the one place she couldn’t follow.

He knew forgiveness was a process that couldn’t be overcome in a single day, but he’d hoped for better than that from Ginny. He’d fought for his life last year too. Although he’d had long stretches of time where nothing seemed to happen. What was it like for those in the castle that faced enemies on a daily basis? Sighing, he ruffled his hair and collapsed on his bed. The whole thing was more complicated than he had the energy for at the moment.

Using their potions work as an excuse, Harry sat with the Slytherins at their end of the common room, ignoring the questioning looks from the others. His stubbornness paid off when Ernie came to join them.

“Potions, yeah? Seamus said you brewed together today,” Ernie said, looking between Malfoy and Harry.

“Yeah we did,” Harry said, scooting over on the sofa to make room for Ernie to sit. “We’re working on some of the medicinal ones first. We were just talking about unicorn hair. I can get some from Hagrid, maybe save us having to buy it since shopping is a bit… er… difficult for some of us.”

Ernie nodded in understanding, saving Harry from discussing the distrust directed at Malfoy and Nott in public, and his own celebrity. “Well if you’re okay with a fourth, I wouldn’t mind tagging along.”

Malfoy gave a small smile, “We’d be happy to have you.”

“I’ll talk with Hagrid tomorrow or Wednesday,” Harry said. “Definitely I’ll have some by Thursday morning.” He nudged Ernie’s leg. “You free Thursday morning?”

“Yeah sure. Usually they’re revising for Herbology but I’d rather get my Potions work done. It’s hard finding time for it when none of my other housemates are working on it.”

“I have Hermione, who is _very_ interested in everything, and I still can’t find the time. She and Ron have been brewing together a lot. They invite me along but it involves a lot of cooing and kissing on their part while they wait between steps.” He faked a gagging sound. “No thank you!” He glanced across the room with a fond smile that fell as he took in Seamus’s glower.

“You should probably head back,” Malfoy said, noticing the look.

Harry considered protesting, that he was trying to prove a point. But he knew pushing too hard would make his friends snap instead of bend. “Yeah, I guess… I’ll let you know about the unicorn hair.”

Zabini stood as Ernie and Harry did. “I think I’m off to bed anyway,” he said.

Nott and Davis stood as well. “We’re going for a walk,” Nott said. 

Davis added with a smile and a wink, “Don’t wait up!”

As Harry joined his friends on the other side of the common room, he noticed Malfoy following Zabini out, and thought briefly of the muggle pyjamas Malfoy wore to bed. Shaking the image from his head, Harry tried to focus on the story Dean was telling. But despite his best efforts, the image lingered. 

\--------

Harry woke bleary eyed on Wednesday morning, relieved to note his dorm mates were already at breakfast. He’d had a restless night, and an embarrassing encounter with Zabini, and had hoped to avoid seeing him for a while. 

Considering their tight quarters, he managed quite well. After breakfast, he hid out all morning with Hagrid, helping him to weed his vegetable patch. Their chaotic Charms lesson made conversation impossible. And after lunch, Harry joined Hermione and Ron by the lake to enjoy the tepid sunlight. Until the coy smiles and rubbing noses became too much for Harry to take.

He bid them goodbye and headed back to the castle. He still had a few hours to kill before Ginny got out of class so Harry headed back to his dorm to get his broom. Maybe he could get a group together to go flying. In his room, he found Malfoy laid out on Zabini’s bed, reading a novel.

“Oh, Potter,” Malfoy said, sitting up and summoning his shoes in one smooth movement. “I can go.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m not staying long.”

“Sorry, Boot is in our room. Erm, with Perks and…” His eyes widened significantly.

Harry gave a little shudder at the image of Terry and sweet Sally-Anne _not_ studying. “It’s fine, really. I’m just here to get changed, maybe see if someone wanted to go flying.”

“All right. If you’re sure.” He dropped his shoes and leaned back against the headboard.

“Actually, I’m glad you’re here. I got the unicorn hair from Hagrid.” Harry pulled the paper packet from his pocket and opened it to show Malfoy. Sitting on the end of Zabini’s bed, he held it out. “He gave me six. One for each of us, and two extra just in case.”

“Merlin! He just _gave_ these to you?” Hesitantly Malfoy reached for the paper and lightly skimmed the silvery, shimmering hairs.

“Yeah, he said he gets them off branches and things and might as well put them to good use.”

“And he didn’t mind two of them going to Theo and me?”

Harry shrugged, “Eh, he had an opinion but… then I pointed out you had unicorn hair as your wand core, so you couldn’t be all bad. He didn’t argue so hard after that.” Harry glanced at his trunk. “I, erm… still have your old wand. I didn’t know if you wanted it back.”

“Why wouldn’t a wizard want his wand back?” Malfoy asked, but with a small smile to let Harry know he was only teasing. He handed the packet of unicorn hair back to Harry. “It’s all right. Mr Ollivander found me a new one and it works just as well, if not better.”

“Oh. I didn’t know if he… if you were on speaking terms with him after…”

“After he was a prisoner in my house? He’s mature enough to acknowledge that wasn’t my doing.” Malfoy pulled his legs up and rested his arms on his knees. “Ollivander mentioned my wand core at my trial, to sway their judgement. Emphasised it was _my_ wand that defeated the Dark Lord.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Mm, so he said. My greatest shining achievement was losing my wand to Harry Potter.”

Harry felt his face flush at the soft smile Malfoy gave him. Trying for levity, he said, “We’ll get that engraved on your tombstone.” His smile widened when Malfoy laughed and playfully kicked at his thigh. “Here lies Draco Malfoy, who lost his wand and every single snitch to Harry Potter.”

“Hey! That’s taking it too far!” Malfoy laughed. “I was burdened by the weight of my own jealousy! I could beat you easily enough now!”

“Oh is that so? Well, I’m going flying right now. Care to put your theory to the test?”

Malfoy’s smile softened. “I’m not sure, actually. I haven’t flown very much these last few years.”

“Come with me. It’ll be fun. We need more fun.”

Before Malfoy could answer, the door opened and Zabini walked in. Harry instantly tensed, having forgotten for a moment he was trying to avoid the other boy. A stupid thought, considering they shared the dorm Harry was currently hiding in. Oh fuck, they were sitting on Blaise’s _bed_.

“Potter, Draco… having a nice little chat?”

“Oh _Blaise_ ,” Harry laughed nervously. “I’d say after our little _encounter_ last night, we’re on to first names now.” 

“Encounter?” Malfoy asked, his eyes darting between them. “What sort of encounter?”

Harry jumped off the bed and went to his trunk to look for flying clothes. “I sort of thought Blaise was an intruder last night… and I may have tackled him to the ground and punched him.” Harry bit his lip, still cringing in embarrassment. “In my defence I was having a bad dream and he was creeping around like a creepy creeper.”

“Excuse you, _Harry_ , I was going to the loo like normal people occasionally do in the middle of the night.” Blaise rolled his eyes. “We’re both lucky I didn’t piss all over the floor when you dug your knee into my stomach. Thankfully he’d left his wand behind and it was just a light tussle. It’s fine. I told you it was fine.”

“I almost broke your nose.” Harry flushed a bright red thinking of the moment he realised he had _Blaise Zabini_ and not some murderer pinned underneath him. And the way his heart rate hadn’t slowed like he’d expected it to.

“But you didn’t and it’s fine now. Next time I’ll sing a jaunty tune so you know I’m not up to anything nefarious.”

“Next time I’ll remember that only the eighth years can get down this corridor and will assume that anyone walking around our room at night is meant to be here.”

“That’s probably a lie, but I’ll take it.” Blaise nodded to Malfoy. “The girls are talking about a walk by the lake. Want to come?”

Before he could answer, Harry said, “We were just talking about flying. Do you think they’d want to do that?”

Blaise asked Malfoy something in - Italian? Harry didn’t know Malfoy knew Italian. Just how many languages did he speak? When Malfoy nodded, Blaise shrugged and said, “I’ll go ask.”

Malfoy sighed at Harry as Blaise left. “You’re pushing this awfully hard. What if no one wants to fly when they find out we’re coming along?”

Harry shrugged. “Their loss.”

And even though it was only Ernie, Justin, Malfoy, and Harry racing around the pitch and chasing the snitch, they had a wonderful time anyway. 

\--------

Ernie followed Harry from the Great Hall to the potions lab the next morning. They spent some time discussing properties of unicorn hair before following Nott’s instructions for creating their own Unicorn Hair Extract. It would need time to cure, so they passed the rest of the time with a quick cough remedy Ernie could cross off his list.

After Herbology, Ernie followed Malfoy and Nott to the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, firing one question after another. After several minutes, he nodded a goodbye and joined Justin and Ollie at the Hufflepuff table for lunch. Harry was pleased to see someone else reaching out to the Slytherins, especially when Neville also noticed and gave Harry a small shrug. Where Neville went, the others would follow.

Harry felt the weight of the world when he woke on Saturday. Halloween didn’t spark the same excitement in Harry as it did in everyone else. Now that he was older, and had lost people he loved in the war, he couldn’t help but dwell on the fact that this was the night his parents died. 

Ron and Hermione went with him to Godric’s Hollow to visit their grave. Harry didn’t feel as overwhelmed as he had the first time, and he’d come prepared with flowers. He laid a bouquet of white lilies on the gravestone and wondered if he should say something out loud. But nothing felt right and so they stood there silently, remembering all those they’d lost.

Not wanting to drag everyone down, Harry escaped to his room as soon as they returned to the castle. It seemed best to let the others celebrate and feast without him. But he wasn’t forgotten. Ginny sent him a patronus to cheer him, and Ernie brought him sweets from the feast. Seamus’s attempts to get him drunk were appreciated, but kindly turned down. Thankfully they all understood loss, and let Harry rest.

He felt almost back to normal on Monday and happily joined Nott and Malfoy in the potions lab to get his mind moving in a better direction. “Ernie said he’s working on a Transfiguration project and can only manage Thursdays here. So it’s just us today.”

“Anything in particular you want to work on?” Malfoy asked. “Theo and I were going to start the sleep aids. The two on the list seem simple enough and will be good practice for Dreamless Sleep.”

“We have to brew Dreamless Sleep?” Harry asked in surprise. From what Hermione had said, that was a rather specialised potion.

“No,” Nott said, “not for class. Draco and I are beginning work on our Potions Mastery this year and trying to work on some things around the class list.”

“Right. Okay. Yeah, that works for me. Whatever checks things off.”

Soon the lab filled with the soft scent of lavender. Harry felt his eyelids drooping as the syrupy liquid simmered. But they snapped open at a flash of blue on Malfoy’s wrist. A bracelet? That was new. It must be. The bright color drew the eye and surely Harry would have noticed it before.

It continued to draw his eye through their Defence lesson, especially when Blaise took hold of Malfoy’s arms to correct his wand movement and the cuff of his robe rode up a little. It seemed more turquoise now. Not that its color mattered. Harry shook his head and focused on his own spell work. He could ask Malfoy about it later.

And he certainly had time for it. With the first Quidditch game of the season coming up on Saturday, the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams signed up for every available hour on the pitch. The whole school babbled constantly about the upcoming game, and odds on who would win. It had been over a year since the game was played properly and hopes were high for this shining moment of normalcy at the school.

So Harry had loads of extra free time, since he couldn’t find the pitch empty enough to fly in. And he knew Ginny wouldn’t miss him on Wednesday when he went to the potions lab to brew his last batch of the nutrient potion. He opened the door and gasped at the heat pouring out from the room.

“Fucking hell!” he exclaimed, sighting Nott and Malfoy. “Why is it so hot in here?”

“Sorry,” Nott said. “We’re working with some dragon scales and they need a lot of heat to soften.”

Their clothes, a lightweight under-robe for Nott and a thin white t-shirt and muggle-style trousers for Malfoy, clung to their skin in the hot, damp air. Harry’s eyes were once again drawn to Malfoy’s bracelet, noticing a black one along with the blue one that was definitely a vibrant blue and not turquoise at all. It emphasised the slender turn of his wrist, and made Harry aware of just how long and delicate Malfoy’s fingers were.

“We weren’t expecting anyone to need the lab this late in the day,” Malfoy added. Noticing Harry’s stare, Malfoy reached for his long sleeved button-down shirt. He smoothed his sleeve down his left forearm and Harry remembered with a jolt the Mark etched into his skin. Was it still there even with Voldemort gone? He remembered Snape talking about how it faded the first time Voldemort died.

Harry set his cauldron on a spare table and joined them by their roaring fire. “I was going to brew my nutrient potion, but it can wait until tomorrow.” Should he bring up the bracelet, so Malfoy didn’t think he was staring at his Mark? Would that be weird?

“Still on it, then?”

“Erm, sort of. Surprise, surprise, Madam Pomfrey doesn’t like the students to self-medicate so I’m allowed one more batch to wean myself off. She said to half the dose every three days until it’s gone and then no more.”

“Do you think you still need it?” Malfoy asked, fiddling with the collar of his shirt to make it lay properly.

“Yes, but not really. I’m beginning to think my weight wasn’t my issue to begin with.”

“Oh. Did Madam Pomfrey have some other suggestions?”

“It’s not really something I wanted to talk to her about. It’ll be fine.” Just to change the subject away from his health issues, Harry said, “It’s really fucking hot in here. You don’t have to leave that shirt on.”

Malfoy stiffened and picked up his quill. Scribbling in his notebook he said, “It’s fine. I’m not in the habit of… letting others see the… I’m just used to being covered.”

Harry’s skin prickled in the heat and his nervousness coalesced into a hard knot in the pit of his stomach. “You let Nott see it.” And why did Harry care? He didn’t even _want_ to see it.

“Theo’s different.”

Harry glanced at Nott, who studiously avoided looking at Harry at all. Malfoy and Nott put on their dragonhide gloves at the same time and turned towards their fire. Malfoy removed a large shimmering scale and set it in his stone mortar. Nott did the same, only his mortar was a silvery metal. Perhaps platinum? Both began grinding their scales, ignoring Harry.

“It was your bracelet,” Harry said. He coughed awkwardly when the two boys looked at him. Nott shook his head and kept grinding, but Malfoy frowned at Harry. Slowly he continued grinding his scale into a powder, casting glances at Harry. “I noticed your bracelet. It’s...erm, nice.” Feeling like a complete idiot, Harry scooped up his cauldron. “Anyway, you two seem busy so I’ll just… leave you to it.”

Flush with embarrassment, Harry hurried back to his dorm. He dumped his cauldron in his trunk and threw himself across his bed. Needing a distraction, he went to see who might be around for a game of cards. In the common room, Hermione sat at a center table with Sally-Anne Perks and Millicent Bullstrode. Hermione had made a floating diagram of wand movements and was pointing to it while talking to the other two girls.

“What’s up with them?” Harry asked Ron as he sat down next to Michael Corner.

Ron shrugged. “Hermione’s taking her dorm mate duties seriously. That means helping Millicent Bullstrode pass Defence.” 

What really made Harry glow, was moments later when Terry Boot and Kevin Entwhistle came in, and Terry sat next to Sally-Anne. He slipped right into the conversation without hesitating at Millicent Bullstrode sitting across from him. Harry felt his persistence was at last paying off every time someone joined a Slytherin without fussing.

Kevin gave Michael a high five as he passed him to sit on the floor near the fireplace. “Kevin!” Harry said in greeting. “I forgot you still went here!”

“Unfortunately I still do. But perhaps not for much longer. Julia’s dad had planned on hiring me after I finished my NEWTs, but he said he needs my help now more than he needs my NEWTs later so… I’m talking with McGonagall and I might end up leaving early.”

“And if things don’t work out with Julia… ?” Justin asked with no subtlety whatsoever.

But Kevin just laughed. “We’re already talking about getting married. And if we do, her dad won’t be so quick to sack me, now will he?”

“You’d better get your act together and ask her before she asks you,” Michael said, playfully nudging at Kevin.

“Seems more fitting to let her ask me. We all know she’s the brains of this operation!”

Harry laughed along with the playful banter, while keeping an eye on the study table. Greengrass and Davis came in and hesitated a moment before joining the group. Terry moved his chair and summoned two more to the table for the new arrivals. Finally, Harry thought with a grin, they were becoming one single group of students. 

He managed to forget his earlier embarrassment over Malfoy and that fucking bracelet right up until he went back to his room and there on his bed lay a flask of nutrient potion. He sighed in relief as he tucked it away in his trunk. And if Harry went to bed with a dumb grin on his face, no one had to know about it.

\--------

The entire castle emptied itself into the Quidditch Pitch first thing after breakfast on Saturday morning for the first official Quidditch game of the year. There were surprised shocks from the students when their banners, nearly all in Gryffindor red, suddenly switched to Slytherin green. Harry wondered how Flitwick and McGonagall had managed it. Throughout the game, the tiny banners continued to switch based on which team held the quaffle. It was a lovely gesture that kept the Slytherin students from feeling outnumbered.

But all the banners doubled in size and turned red when Gryffindor’s seeker caught the snitch. Red and gold confetti exploded over the stadium, surprising everyone and starting cheers all over again. The stands began to empty as the chattering students returned to the castle for a late lunch. Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed the tide down, then separated from the group to find Ginny and the team to offer congratulations.

“Harry! We won!” Ginny yelled over the crowd as soon as she saw him. She leaped into his arms, causing him to spin and ultimately overbalance, knocking them down in a laughing heap.

“I knew you could do it! I’m so proud of you!” Harry laughed and pulled her into a chaste kiss, that Ginny quickly turned into something definitely not meant to be seen in public. Harry pulled away when he heard a flashbulb go off.

“Don’t leave,” Ginny whispered quickly before standing and brushing grass from her knees. She held tight to Harry’s hand as everyone cheered and offered congratulations. When the rest of the students and a few team members drifted back to the castle, Ginny dragged Harry to the changing rooms.

“Ginny!” Harry laughed, as they passed Ritchie and Jaime, the two Gryffindor beaters, dumping their protective gear in their bags. Ginny waved a cheery hello as she moved quickly to the cubicles for changing, and pulled Harry in with her. “Ginny, you’re mad!”

“Mad for you! I can’t believe we won!” Her wand swished quickly through a set of charms that were meant to provide privacy but only emphasised to the outside world that something naughty was happening inside the changing cubicle. “Get your shirt off.”

“What -” Before Harry could protest, his coat and shirt disappeared and he had Ginny wrapped around him, her mouth sealed tightly over his. “Ginny! We can’t! They’re right outside!”

“We can! It’s fine. I’ve stumbled on Jaime leaving here with his girlfriend. He knows what’s what and won’t bother us.” Her fingers worked his flies open. “I fucking _love_ winning!” Her hands wriggled their way into his boxers to squeeze his arse, making him buck in surprise.

She must have taken that for excitement on his part because she pushed him down on the small bench and straddled his hips. Cupping his jaw, she kissed him deeply again.

Harry reared back, smacking his head on the wall behind him. “Gin! Seriously! You have to stop!” Harry stood up, knocking her off his lap. The pressure of the moment, the tight quarters of the space… all of it was making it hard for Harry to breathe.

Ginny bumped into Harry and the wall, trying to get to her feet. “Harry, I -”

But Harry didn’t wait to hear her excuses. The suffocating press of the walls had him blasting the door open, tripping over Ginny to get out. He crawled away and sat with his back pressed to the wall of the changing room, eyes squeezed shut. 

“Harry?” Ginny asked quietly. Her fingers grazed his arm and he flinched.

“Don’t touch me!” he growled. He heard the rustle of her clothing as she moved away, but he grabbed tightly to her arm. “Don’t leave me!” A spark of magic made her yelp, and Harry let go, burying his head in his hands instead. “Please - can you sing?”

“Sing?”

“Yeah. The sound is good. Sing something. Doesn’t matter what.”

He focused on forcing his breath in and out at an even pace. Ginny sang a warbly jingle about Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum, then a shaky refrain from some Wrock band he wasn’t familiar with, and then with more confidence, a child’s lullaby.

The content of the song hardly mattered. Harry needed the sound as something to focus on. He let the sound echo through him and the space around them. It hung in the air, light and airy, instead of the dead sound of closed-in walls. Slowly his fingers eased out of his hair and he remembered he was safe, that he wasn’t trapped or lost any longer.

“I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely.

“You don’t have to be sorry, Harry. I shouldn’t have - ambushed you like that.” Tentatively she moved closer. Harry put his arm around her to draw her flush against his side. “You used to like hiding in small spaces together.”

Claustrophobia was a new phenomenon for Harry. Even though the Dursleys had used the cupboard under the stairs as punishment, it ultimately meant safety for Harry. While he hid there, they couldn’t get to him. But now that the threat of Voldemort had evaporated, he’d had time to reflect on the more dangerous and abusive aspects of his childhood. Hermione said confronting his past would make his future easier, but it didn’t feel that way at the moment.

“It seemed,” Ginny continued, “like when you had a lot of time to plan ahead, you’d overthink things and… nothing worked right. I thought if you were taken by surprise, you wouldn’t have time to overthink it. But I guess not.”

Her words made him squirm, and he realised he still had no shirt on. Ginny seemed to realise at the same time and flicked her wand to recall his shirt and coat from wherever she’d banished them. He pulled on the t-shirt, wincing at the tickle of the magical seams on his skin. “It’s more complicated than that, you know. The PTSD…”

“Is it though?”

Harry stiffened at the simple, yet harsh words. 

Ginny pulled away and sat on one of the benches in the centre of the room. “Harry, did you and the boys actually _read_ the pamphlets Hermione handed out, or did you just laugh at the poor saps that can’t get it up?”

Harry swallowed heavily and plucked at the sleeve of his t-shirt. “I had to… had to laugh, otherwise I… I was afraid I’d lose it.” He’d had a hard time over the summer, worried about being irreparably broken. Hermione’s pamphlets, blaming his problem on trauma, made him feel better in some twisted sort of way.

“Well there are loads of other symptoms. Nightmares, flashbacks, isolation, irritability. The list goes on. Any of that sound familiar to you? Sound like you at all?”

“I have… nightmares sometimes,” Harry said slowly. “And sometimes I need to be alone. At first there was a lot of that.” He winced, thinking about how now that usually stemmed from embarrassment, rather than war trauma. “But Ron and I would go flying every day. Hermione had us write out our thoughts and the three of us would talk about it.” He shrugged. “Bit by bit things got better. Is that so bad?”

Ginny gave him a small smile. “No Harry, of course not. I’m happy you’re getting better. I just think… I think the problems you have… It’s not about the war, it’s about you and me.”

“No, Gin, you can’t think that!” Harry crawled to where she sat and laid his head in her lap. She stroked his hair and he breathed deeply of her soft floral scent. “Ginny, I love you and you - you’re home to me. You make me think of all the good things in my life. You’re - the home I want to build.”

“Okay,” she said softly. She gave his hair a light tug, encouraging him to sit up. She cupped his cheeks and gave him a sad smile. Her thumb traced his bottom lip and then she leaned in to kiss him. “I love you too, Harry.” She pressed their foreheads together and he sighed into her. “Okay,” she said with brisk finality, closing the subject. She stood and pulled him to his feet. “I’m going up to Gryffindor Tower where they’re probably celebrating our win. I think… erm… I’ll catch up with you later, all right?”

It hurt, being dismissed this way, but if Ginny needed a little space, Harry could hardly fault her. Nothing about this moment went like he thought it might. “Yeah, all right. I was - I could use a fly right now.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and tried for a brave smile. “I’ll see you at dinner?”

“Yeah, dinner.” She put her broom in her Quidditch bag and gave him one last glance. She looked like she might say something else, but instead just smiled at Harry and squeezed his fingers in goodbye.

Harry flew wide circles around the pitch, letting the cold air empty his mind. After several rounds, his belly reminded him he hadn’t eaten lunch yet. He snagged a sandwich from the kitchen and ate it on his way up to his room. 

“Oi, Harry!” he heard Ron call. 

Turning, he saw Ron, Hermione, Seamus, and Dean coming to the top of the stairs. “Hey! Party over already? I wondered if it might last all day.”

“They’re still at it, but it was winding down enough we thought we should go.”

“We missed you,” Hermione said, studying Harry’s face. “Ginny said you wanted to fly now that the pitch was finally free.”

“Yeah, something like that.” Harry smiled sheepishly down at his feet. “Did they make a big deal about it?” He turned to lead them down the hall.

“Not really. Ginny was definitely the queen of the party.”

“No alcohol,” Seamus said with mock-sadness, “but lots of sweets and music.”

“We’re getting old,” Dean said, “because all I wanted was to ask them to turn it down. I can’t handle that stuff the way I used to.”

“Too many people,” Seamus agreed.

“Oh!” Hermione exclaimed. “I forgot I told Millie I’d find that book for Defence.” She kissed Ron on the cheek. “I’m going to run to the library.” In a flash, she disappeared back down the stairs.

Ron elbowed Harry, “Your madness is spreading.”

“It’s not madness to help the Slytherins. We’re all recovering from the same trauma.”

“I’m pretty sure some of us have different trauma than others,” Dean said quietly, and instantly Harry felt contrite. Subdued, the four boys moved as one to Ron and Seamus’s room. Dean followed Seamus to his bed, while Harry followed Ron to his.

Thinking of Ginny’s words about Harry’s possible not-PTSD symptoms, Harry asked, “Do you still get flashbacks? Nightmares? About being on the run?”

“Yeah sometimes,” Dean said, still not looking at any of them directly. “Sometimes the noise and people around me grate on my nerves and I want to tear my hair out. I guess it’s getting better, though. Ollie’s a good dorm mate, and helps me out sometimes. I find Luna if I can. She was a big help while we were hiding out at Ron’s Aunt Muriel’s.”

“I’ll bet Luna’s got some _impressive_ coping techniques,” Ron said with a fond smile.

“You know it. Lots of herbs and portable charms.” Dean pulled a small embroidered square from his pocket to show them. “Probably a placebo effect but it helps.” 

“Herbs, you say,” Seamus laughed, waggling his eyebrows. The other boys joined in laughing, while Dean rolled his eyes.

“Luna doesn’t need anything to get high. She’s already drifting happily along.”

“Is there anything else?” Harry asked, pulling them back to a more serious conversation. “Have you noticed other things?”

“Like what?”

Ron looked more carefully at Harry and tilted his head. Harry felt himself flush in the scrutiny, having always known this moment would come. He couldn’t hide much from Ron anymore.

“Is this about Ginny?” Ron asked. “About why she went to the party without you?”

Harry bit his lip and nodded. “Things keep… escalating… between us. And I’m not... keeping up.”

Seamus scrunched his face up, clearly not getting the point. But Ron had been through hours of conversation about the war with Harry, and seemed to grasp the concept. “Like keeping _up_ , as in Hermione’s super helpful pamphlets about trauma?”

“That load of tripe -” Seamus cut off when Dean elbowed him. Seamus shoved him back and said to Harry. “That was a load of hippogriff shit, all right? Don’t you worry about it. I know just the thing. I just need a few days to owl Collin. He’ll fix us up.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I don’t need more alcohol.” Although he sort of felt he could do with a shot or two at the moment. “Or drugs.” Probably there was some potion he could take to get him hard but just the thought made him want to vomit. 

“No, no. It’s a simple fix. But I don’t want any hassles about it so I’ll just wait to see what Collin can manage. We’ll get you going in no time.”

“That sounds… actually sort of frightening.” Harry grinned at Ron. “Think we can trust him?”

“Not even a little bit. But who knows? Maybe he’s got a trick or two up his sleeve yet.”

“Oh I’ve got a trick,” Seamus laughed. He pointed his wand at his bedside table. “Until then, who’s up for cards?”

And the little slice of normalcy was exactly what Harry needed.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry went early to dinner that evening so that Ginny wouldn’t have to wait for him. Thankfully Ron and Hermione didn’t follow him down, because Ginny came in with the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team, kissed Harry on the cheek and said, “We’re still celebrating so I’m going to…” She nodded her head in the direction of the team, still boisterous and loud with laughter. “You can join us if you want?” But her eyes dimmed as he stood and he knew she didn’t want him around.

“Actually, I’m feeling a little under the weather. I think I’ll just go.”

“Harry…” She said softly, reaching for him.

He evaded her grasp and said, mainly for the benefit of the others, “I think I’m coming down with something. I can’t eat right now.” Holding his stomach, he strode out of the Great Hall in a way he hoped didn’t look like running away.

Where should he go now? Back to the pitch? He shouldn’t fly if he wanted to fake an illness. And the eighth year corridor was sure to be full of everyone bustling about before dinner. Perhaps their classroom? Who would be there on a Saturday evening right before dinner?

He inwardly groaned as he opened the door. Fucking Ravenclaws. Didn’t they ever stop revising? Wait, not Ravenclaws. They were Hufflepuffs. And Slytherins.

“Hiya Harry,” Hannah Abbott called cheerily. “Did Neville send you? I told him I might be a little late for dinner.” 

Sally-Anne Perks checked her watch. “We should just head on. We can pick this up on Monday.” She handed a notebook to Millicent Bullstrode. “That all right?”

Bulstrode hugged the notebook to her chest and nodded, then stood almost behind Daphne Greengrass. Greengrass took her hand and smiled shyly at the two Hufflepuffs, “Thank you for your help. Having someone new to explain… well, it helps to have a new perspective on the spells.”

“It was no trouble,” Hannah said with her typical sunny smile. “And I think… I’ll talk to Neville about Herbology. He… might need a little more convincing.”

The smile on Greengrass’s face faltered. “Yes, of course. It’s primarily Charms and Defence that Millicent needs help with. So there’s probably no need to bother him.”

Hannah shrugged, then tugged on Sally-Anne’s sleeve and indicated the door. “You coming Harry?”

“No, actually… I’m not feeling well. Thought maybe I’d catch a nap in here, since it’s probably going to be quieter here than in my room.”

“Oh! Of course. I’ll let the others know.” 

As soon as the girls left, Harry moved his armchair to the window and tried to calm his jittery nerves. Nothing about this day had gone like he’d thought. He’d started the day cheering on his beautiful girlfriend, and ended it with worry she might not be his girlfriend anymore. 

No, that was ridiculous over-reacting! He loved her, and she loved him, and they both just needed a little time to think over things. They’d fought in a war and spent a summer apart. Of course they would need to reorient themselves around each other once again. This was all just a part of finding each other.

But the more Harry settled into life at the school, the further removed from Ginny he felt. He enjoyed his developing friendship with the three Slytherin boys, even with the divide it made among his Gryffindor friends. It warmed him that the girls had begun making bridges of their own. Hermione and Sally-Anne seemed to have taken Millicent Bullstrode under their wing. Tracey Davis roomed with Parvati Patil and he’d seen them leaving the dorm in close conversation a time or two. Perhaps McGonagall had it right that they mix houses.

That night in the common room, instead of Slytherins on one side and everyone else on the other, they had a mix of girls at the center tables with boys on the outside ring looking on with mild interest. How had that happened so quickly? Or maybe Harry just hadn’t been paying attention.

Seamus in particular glared in confusion at Lavender and Parvati talking with Tracey Davis, all three giggling like best friends. “Lav said we might take a walk after dinner, but I don’t know if she’s _busy_ with them. How can she laugh like that with a girl that wouldn’t give her the time of day a year ago?”

“Girls are weird,” Harry said with a shrug. 

Davis, putting the finishing touches on an elaborate braid of Lavender's hair, laughed loudly and whistled across the room to Nott. “Theo! Lavender says she’s never had a pumpkin chai latte from Madam Puddifoot’s. What do you think about that?”

While Nott turned a violent shade of red, Malfoy and Blaise fell against each other laughing. Nott aimed a stinging hex at both of them, but that only seemed to make them laugh harder. Davis giggled and blew Nott a kiss.

“I don’t know,” Ron said quietly, “but it looks like a funny story.”

“Well Ronald,” Seamus said in clipped tones, “we’re not interested in their stupid stories.” He crossed his arms and turned his back on the girls. “I didn’t want to go out with Lavender anyway.”

“Liar,” Ron said with an eye roll. “If I have to hear you going on about that purple jumper and how fucking tight it is, I’m going to stuff it down your throat. Besides if you ask her out now, you’d just be getting her out of Tracey Davis’s evil clutches.”

That gave Seamus pause. “Almost like… I was a hero.”

“Of a sort,” Ron said with a wide, fake smile. “Just get out of here.”

As he walked away, Harry whispered, “What are the chances she goes with him?”

“He’s got a one in four chance of a yes.”

“There’s only yes or no.”

“With girls, there’s never just yes or no.”

Instead of the boasting, booming voice they expected, Seamus bent down to whisper in Lavender’s ear. She tilted her head and gave a coy little shrug. Then she whispered something to Parvati and stood up. Offering her hand to Seamus, the two of them left hand in hand. Immediately, Padma took the vacant seat and took up whispering with Davis and Parvati.

“When do you think the boys will be so chummy?” Harry asked. 

Ron supressed a smile. “We don’t have hair ribbons and make-up to talk about so probably never.”

“You better watch that kind of talk or Hermione will -”

“Lecture me until the end of time? Yeah, sometimes I like to rile her up on purpose. Sometimes she’ll try and say four sentences at once. It’s hilarious. And then, when I’ve finally learned my lesson…” He trailed off with a smile and half-shrug.

“Ew stop, please. That’s my Hermione you’re talking about!”

“Fair enough. You’re good about keeping it clean about Ginny. Of course, that was before I knew there wasn’t anything dirty to talk about.”

Harry elbowed Ron and laughed off the teasing words. “There will be one day and I’m not going to spare you!”

“I’ll be too old and deaf to hear you by then anyway.”

\--------

It was a strange turn of events for Ginny to be avoiding Harry instead of the other way around and he realised how often he had evaded her. Had he been this bad all along? Or had these two months together slowly turned him into a shit boyfriend? And then he recalled they’d only dated for about two months back in sixth year, and maybe two months together was all they could sustain.

Whatever the case, Ginny had more talent for hiding from Harry than he ever had hiding from her. Perhaps because Harry had more free time and no excuses for not spending it with her. But Ginny never ran out of things to do. Quidditch still topped the list, even if Gryffindor didn’t have another match until March. They always had revising to do, but she calmly explained that his curriculum differed slightly from hers (which sounded like a lie since they were meant to be following the seventh year syllabus) and it would be easier if she did her revising with her friends. Alone.

And Harry found that he missed her. Whatever troubles they were enduring, she was still his best friend and the woman he loved, and he wanted to be with her. If they could move past his physical problem, they’d be stronger than ever. He was sure of it.

On Friday, Harry finally pinned her down for a date that evening. How were they going to heal if they couldn’t even talk? Harry picked a few winter weeds from a flower bed and transfigured them into little white daisies. He wrapped them carefully and set them on his bed before sorting through his clothes to find something suitable to wear for a nice date.

The Slytherin boys came in during his search and Harry solicited their help. “Do you think robes would be better?” Harry asked, holding up his favorite dark green shirt. 

“Do you have robes that aren’t school robes?” Blaise asked.

“Erm, not really. But I can borrow some.”

“Let’s work with what we have.” Blaise held up the green shirt. “We can change the colour of this. Maybe adjust the cut of it a little.” He looked at Malfoy. “Want to lead? You’re more current on muggle fashions.”

Malfoy shrugged. “Something warmer? Like a dark plum?”

Nott didn’t look up from his book, but said in a bored voice, “Plum is for girls. Go for ‘aubergine.’”

Harry snorted at that. Theo didn't say much, but when he did, Harry appreciated his wit.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Here we go.” He tapped the shirt and the color melted into a dark purple colour. “What do we think of that?” He held it up against Harry’s chest and looked to Blaise for his opinion.

“Hmm… I rather liked the green. Brings out his eyes. Maybe we can brighten the green?”

Harry watched Malfoy’s mouth form the words but couldn’t react fast enough to stop him saying, “ _Finite incantatem_.”

“Shit,” Harry muttered under his breath as the shirt in Malfoy’s hand shifted into an overly large black and red plaid shirt. “Damn it, Malfoy! It took me ages to get that shirt just right,” he groaned as he yanked the shirt from Malfoy’s hands.

“Well how was I to know it was transfigured?” Malfoy asked, with defensive guilt written all over him. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Harry sighed, defeated. “I guess now we have a blank slate to work with.” He handed the shirt back to Malfoy.

“It was impressive spell-work,” he said hesitantly, taking the shirt and looking it over. “It looked shop-bought.” He bunched up one side of the shirt. “This is a lot of fabric to take in. Doesn’t it itch?”

“Yeah, I guess. I don’t really notice it usually.” Although he’d started to more and more lately. Harry indicated his trunk. “Pretty much everything in there is charmed in some way. I’m not one for shopping for clothes.”

“You know,” Malfoy said, wrinkling his nose at the shirt and tossing it aside. “I have some things that might be more your size, and won’t itch so much at the seams.”

“You want to lend me a shirt?” Harry tried not to look too eager. Ever since joining the magical world, he’d worn transfigured clothes and didn’t know what to think about wearing something that fit without magic.

“Sure, why not? Blaise and Theo don’t have any muggle clothes and I’d think you’d find that more comfortable than robes. Right?” He looked to the other two boys for approval. Nott shrugged, but Blaise agreed with a nod.

Harry followed Malfoy into his dorm with his heart fluttering madly in his chest. He pulled up short when he saw Ron and Hermione sitting together, working on schoolwork on Ron’s bed.

“Harry,” Hermione greeted him. “Getting ready for your date?”

“Erm… yeah. Malfoy’s going to lend me a shirt.” The sudden awkwardness made the fluttering stop abruptly.

“Is he?”

Malfoy halted next to his trunk and looked between Hermione and Harry, unsure of what to say. Harry filled the growing silence quickly. “Yeah my green shirt lost its charms and now it’s the hideous tent Dudley gave me and it itches so Malfoy said I could try something of his because he’s nearly my size and we might not need to charm it at all.”

“ _Malfoy_ is helping you dress for your date with Ginny?” Hermione asked.

Harry silently begged her to please shut the fuck up. He shook out his hands, hoping the nervous tingling would fade away. “He’s close to my size. A shirt might fit. Just as it is.”

Maybe Hermione remembered nights on the run, when Harry did his own laundry to prevent anyone’s magic near his already heavily-magicked clothes. Maybe she thought back to eleven year old Harry, that hadn’t gotten the knack of transfiguration and wore clothing four sizes too big. Maybe she understood the possibility that childhood neglect had kept Harry from voicing his needs about something as benign as clothing.

Or maybe she simply trusted Ron’s judgement when he held her hand and squeezed it to encourage her silence. “Ginny’s partial to green,” Hermione said, picking up her book again. “Says it brings out Harry’s eyes.”

Harry smiled gratefully, and stood next to Malfoy to look through his box. “That’s a lot of clothes.”

“Yes, that’s what happens when I’m given a large sum of money and free rein in a big city.” He pulled a crisply pressed, light blue shirt from the pile and held it up to Harry. “After some ‘re-education’ from the Ministry, I stayed in London for four days and went shopping absolutely everywhere. I made myself sick on sweets from Tesco -”

“You went to a Tesco?” Ron asked, glancing at Hermione to see her mirrored shock.

“Mm. And shopping for clothes. And shoes. Music. Toys. Art supplies.” He handed the shirt to Harry. “I think this one.”

“What kind of art supplies?” Harry asked. He whipped his t-shirt over his head and started to pull on the button-down shirt, self-conscious about being shirtless in a room full of people. 

“Wait, you need a vest.” Malfoy summoned a thin white undershirt from his trunk. “I like to draw and muggle supplies are different.”

“Different how?” Hermione asked. She raised her chin in silent challenge when Malfoy looked at her. 

He gave her a small smile and handed the button-down shirt back to Harry. While packing away his muggle clothing, he said, “Wizarding art is meant to move, which means special ink and special paper, both of which are created to accept charms more readily. Muggle art is still, and not meant to take any magic at all. I bought an array of ink pens and felt-tip pens, a box of pastels and charcoal. Oh, and a small set of watercolors. To try everything out. And it was… more or less the same.”

Hermione made a sound of assent and looked thoughtfully at Malfoy. Harry finished buttoning his shirt and held out his arms. “What do you think?”

“Tuck it in,” Malfoy said with an eye roll. He smoothed the seams by Harry’s shoulders and stood back to take in the whole outfit. “I think the sleeves are a little long, but it’s probably fine.”

Harry held out his arms again and then bent them at the elbow. He grinned widely. “No, I think it’s fine.” He turned to Ron. “What do you think? It fits.” In a fit of excitement, Harry twirled a tight circle. “It’s so weird. It doesn’t itch at all.”

“Do you want trousers too?” Malfoy asked, holding the lid to his box aloft. “Before I put it away?”

“No, I think these are fine,” Harry said, plucking at his trousers. “These are fine, right?” he asked Ron. 

“You look great,” Ron said. “Gin’ll love it.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, looking down at his outfit. “I certainly hope so.” He smoothed the shirt down and held his arms out again. “This is so weird,” he laughed. “I haven’t had clothes without magic since first or second year.” He shook his head. “Okay. My hair.” He ran his fingers through his hair, pulling one lock down. “I should get it cut again. It’s hard to style it right.”

Ron laughed and shook his head. “I never thought the day would come when you’d try and tame that wild mess.”

“I’m a big boy now. Gotta act the part. Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need it!” Ron called as Malfoy followed Harry out the door. But Harry knew that was a huge fucking lie. After the way she shunned him all week, Harry could easily imagine the night ending with Ginny telling him she was happier without him.

Now the nervousness returned, threatening to choke Harry. He didn’t have to ask about his hair, Blaise offered to help him and pulled him to the bathroom before he could even voice the question.

“You look like you’re about to throw up. Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, rubbing his damp palms on his thighs. “I’m nervous. Feel like there’s a lot riding on this date. Again.” He sat on a conjured stool and closed his eyes. Softly he said, “I’m afraid I’m going to lose her. That I’m not enough.” He didn’t want to say more than that. Harry’s embarrassing issue and the resulting problems with his girlfriend were not really Blaise’s business.

“Harry.” Blaise tapped Harry’s chin so he would open his eyes. “Harry, whatever things you’re dealing with since May and really all the things that came before… Whatever it is… you deserve someone that will stand by you. Do _not_ settle for less.”

Crossing his arms over his chest with a frown, Harry said, “Ginny’s not ‘less.’” 

“No, of course she isn’t.” Blaise squirted gel into his hands and rubbed them together lightly. “She’s a powerful witch. Strong-willed. Intelligent, beautiful.” He smiled at Harry’s surprised look. “I’m not blind.”

“She said you called her a blood traitor.” Indeed, Harry had heard him, years ago on the train to school in sixth year. It must have happened again last year, when Ginny could hear.

Blaise sighed and fluffed Harry’s hair with his gelled hands. “That whole thing is more complicated than I can say. She was leading a dangerous rebellion with Longbottom. And yes, I said some things I regret now…” He picked up a comb and fiddled with the tines. Shaking his head, he finished his task in silence. 

Should Harry ask more about it? Would it explain more about Ginny’s distrust of the Slytherins? In the end, Harry kept silent. It was enough to know they stood on opposite sides of the war, too far apart to bridge the gap. But now, with the dust finally settled, they could forgive one another and be kids again. Couldn’t they?

“Here, take a look.”

Harry smiled at his reflection. “Certainly better than I can manage on my own. I need another haircut.” He turned his smile on Blaise and handed him a towel to wipe his hands clean.

For a long moment, Blaise stared in silence. Long enough that Harry’s smile dimmed and he’d turned away. 

“Harry,” Blaise called again. He set the towel down with a heavy frown. “Ginny Weasley is a fierce fighter for those she loves. If she doesn’t want to fight for you… You need to know that it’s not because of you.”

“Okay,” Harry said softly, taken aback by the intensity in Blaise’s eyes. Something felt off about this conversation, but not in a way Harry could pinpoint. 

Blaise turned to the sink to wash his hands. “You’re not what I thought you were.” Then he straightened with his usual smile, shaking off his moment of open vulnerability, and said, “Good luck tonight,” effectively cutting off any reply Harry might make.

“Yeah, thanks.” Harry pressed a hand to his stomach to calm the dancing pixies inside. “It’s going to be good. We just need a chance to talk things over. It’s going to be fine.”

And he repeated that to himself over and over as he walked to the fourth floor classroom where he had arranged to meet Ginny. He got there early to set it up for a date. The far wall had fake windows that provided a lovely view of rolling hills draped in frosty moonlight. Harry transfigured one of the tables to be wider with a softer surface for sitting on. He spread a blanket over it and set his flowers in the center. A few candles provided a soft, romantic glow. As he considered whether more candles would be better, a light knock sounded.

Harry’s breath left in a whoosh when Ginny came in wearing a robe he’d never seen before. “Gin,” he sighed, “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she said with a small smile. She ran her hand down the deep blue fabric of the bodice, skimming over the five or six clasps on the left side that kept the robes closed. A flash of silver embroidery shimmered at her cuffs. “It’s actually Emma’s.”

Harry laughed. “I borrowed something too. This shirt’s Malfoy’s.”

“Malfoy? Malfoy lent you a shirt for our date?” She wrapped her arms around her waist and studied his face. Panic crept up his throat, but then dissolved when she shrugged away her disapproval and said, “I thought you’d wear your green shirt. It’s my favorite.”

“Yeah, we had a transfiguration mishap and this was just easier.” Taking her hand, Harry led her to the blanketed table. “It doesn’t have any magic in it. More comfortable anyway.” He handed her the flowers. “These are for you.”

“Oh, thank you.” She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, but transfigured flowers didn’t carry much scent. “They’re lovely.”

“You’re lovely,” Harry said, stroking her cheek lightly. She leaned into the touch then took hold of his hand to kiss his palm.

“I’m sorry,” she said as she climbed onto the table and sat primly with her flowers, “for avoiding you this week. Some of it was real. My team needed me and I had so much school work to catch up on. But… I needed a little space too.” She glanced out the window to her right and idly tapped on the glass.

“It’s all right. I know I fucked up last week. That’s why I wanted to -” He gestured to the space around them. “I don’t know, set up something nice for us.”

“Oh Harry, you sweet boy.” Ginny leaned into Harry, draping her legs over his and wrapping her arms around his waist. She tilted her head for a kiss. “My love,” she said softly then kissed him again, more deeply. 

“Gin,” Harry said, pulling away. “I thought we were going to talk about things.”

“We will. But… when you said you wanted to make things up to me, I thought you meant…”

“You thought we’d jump right to snogging. What about the way things went sour in the changing room?” Harry gently moved Ginny off his lap. “You don’t want to talk about that?”

“What’s there to talk about? I surprised you, you didn’t like it, and I said I wouldn’t try something like that again.”

“Yeah, and then you accused me of faking a trauma disorder.” Harry hopped off the table, knowing he would feel steadier on his own two feet with some distance between them. This evening wasn't progressing like he'd imagined.

“Harry, I didn’t say you were faking it,” she shifted to let her legs hang over the table and swung them lightly. “I said maybe it wasn’t the war at all. That you can’t blame every problem you have on PTSD.”

“So you think - what? That I don’t want you enough?”

“I don’t know. That’s what I came here to find out.” She unhooked the line of clasps on the bodice and pulled it open, baring herself to the waist. “I wore this special for you.” 

Instead of a regular bra, Ginny wore a snug-fitting camisole made of blace lace. The top curved low, revealing the creamy swell of her breasts. It sent something painful twisting through Harry, wondering if Ginny’s dorm mates had a hand in it.

And if they would know if nothing came of it.

That was _exactly_ the kind of pressure Harry didn’t need. Added to that stress was a desire - not to peel away her clothes and caress her skin - but to cover her up and save them both from this horrible, tense moment.

“Ginny…” he said softly, barely feeling the word leave his lips. 

“Harry,” she said, raising one eyebrow at him. With a sigh she did up the clasps on her robe. “Harry, I’ve seen desire, you know. Not just on you,” she bit her lip and dropped her eyes to the ground, “but on other boys as well. And since we’ve been back here this year…” With a steadier gaze meeting his, she said, “I haven’t seen it on you at all.

He moved to stand between her legs and wrapped her in a hug. He buried his face in her neck and whispered, “That’s not - exactly true.”

Ginny kissed his cheek, and pulled him in for a real kiss. “Harry,” she breathed softly. “Oh Harry, don’t you think I know what reluctance tastes like?”

“It’s not just you,” he said, pulling away abruptly to pace. It hurt too much to see her disappointment. “It was all summer, too. Before we came back to school.”

“And did you talk to anyone about it?”

He scoffed, “Who am I going to talk to about this? Ron and Hermione?”

“A healer, in case it’s a physical problem? A mind healer, in case it’s a mental one?”

“I can’t! You know I can’t! People will find out! Harry Potter is public property. I shudder to think what they’d do with the knowledge I can’t - you know.”

Ginny rolled her eyes at him but didn’t say anything. Finally Harry admitted, “All right, I told the boys last week.”

“And you didn’t die from embarrassment?” She pursed her lips to disguise a smile, and it made something in Harry soften.

“No, I didn’t. But Seamus said he could help me out and I’m a little nervous about what he’s come up with.” Harry didn’t mention Seamus encouraging his drunken antics a few weeks ago, and thankfully neither did Ginny.

She opened her arms and Harry gratefully wrapped himself up in her again. She stroked his hair and rocked them lightly. “I’m sure it’s harmless. We can give it until then, all right? See where we stand?”

Harry pressed harder into her shoulder, his words muffled by her robes. “It feels like we’re breaking up.”

“We’re not.” Ginny cupped his cheeks and held his gaze for a long moment. “I love you. And I want you. But I also need you to want me back.”

“I do,” he said quietly.

She pulled him forward and kissed his lips, the tip of his nose, his forehead. She rested her head against him with a defeated sigh, “Okay.” After a long moment, Ginny sat up and wiped at her eyes. “I think I should head back.”

“Already?” He didn’t want to say it out loud, but if they returned to their dorms now, everyone would know things hadn’t worked out for their date.

“I laid the groundwork already. Told the girls I wasn’t feeling well at dinner. I’ll play it up.” From her pocket, Ginny pulled out a familiar, purple and orange sweet. “Puking pastille. If I just nibble one corner, it’ll make me nauseous without actually being sick so…”

“Is this what we’ve come to?” Harry felt sick enough for the both of them. 

“A date like this was too much pressure. For both of us.” Ginny hopped off the table and took Harry’s hand. “You know, we’ve never really talked about what we want or expected. We just sort of fell into one another when school started. I think we need something different. Not this -” she indicated the romantic setting around them. “Something more neutral. Maybe we can go flying tomorrow? Find a quiet spot to talk?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, nodding slowly. “Yeah, all right.”

“Think about what you want. Not just from me, but from life in general. Goals, plans, whatever. No matter how outlandish. All right? I’ll do the same and we’ll talk tomorrow.”

This felt like a plan, something real Harry could hold onto. “Yeah, okay. Tomorrow.”

Ginny kissed his cheek. “Sweet dreams, Harry.” She waved goodbye and slipped out the door.

Absently Harry cast the charms around the room to vanish the conjured items and return it to its original state. As he walked slowly back to his dorm, he thought about the things he wanted. Freedom from the eyes that followed him everywhere. He wanted to travel to new places, eat new foods, meet new people that didn’t know his part in the war. And he wanted someone special along with him, someone to love and share a million tiny moments with.

Could that be Ginny? He’d always imagined her with him, but was that only because he couldn’t imagine sharing himself with someone else? Ron and Hermione had each other, and even though they always welcomed Harry, he knew they were one and he was on the outside. And Harry knew Ginny wanted to play Quidditch but what would that mean for them? Would her time and energies be too focused on the game to build something with Harry? It had seemed so easy between them before, but now everything took so much more effort.

By the time he got to the eighth years’ corridor, Harry had tied himself in knots with worry. He knocked on Ron’s door and almost melted into a puddle of relief when he heard his best friend say, “It’s open.” 

Harry trudged across the room and collapsed on Ron’s bed, uncaring that he landed across his legs. Okay, he did care because Ron’s shins were lumpy. Moaning, Harry crawled over Ron’s legs and curled into a ball at the foot of the bed. “I think I’m making things worse with Ginny.”

“Is that why you’re back so early?” He tossed his magazine aside to focus on Harry.

Harry rolled to his back to sigh at the ceiling. “She said a fancy date was too much pressure for something romantic to happen. What we need is a serious discussion in a neutral place."

Ron winced, “Ouch.”

“Yeah. So… we’re going flying tomorrow.”

They both turned to the door when it opened up to Seamus. “Harry! Just the man I was looking for!”

“Okay…” Harry said reluctantly, sitting up against the footboard. Seamus carried a small box, and Harry almost dreaded what was inside, given the maniacal grin Seamus sported. “Special delivery?”

“You know it. Collin arranged an early owl so it wouldn’t come at breakfast. Didn’t want a lot of prying eyes asking questions.”

That did not reassure Harry in the least, nor did the concerned frown on Ron’s face. When Ron shrugged at him, Harry asked Seamus. “All right, I’ll bite. What’ve you got?”

Seamus unwrapped his parcel and opened it with a low whistle. “See for yourself.” Seamus tossed a magazine at Harry, who caught the slippery pages awkwardly. Ron got a good look before Harry did and groaned in disgust.

“Seamus, you utter wanker,” Ron said, kicking Harry off his bed. “Harry chuck that away before you have to scourgify your eyes.”

Harry righted the magazine as he stood, taken aback by the well endowed, mostly naked witch on the cover. “What the fuck - porn?” he asked, looking up at a grinning Seamus. “That’s your solution?”

“Aye, you just need a little something to heat the cauldron, right? Something’s bound to spark an interest in you. He sent something a little more - _adventurous_ \- if that’s your thing.” Seamus held up another magazine, this one with a witch wearing nothing but carefully knotted green ropes.

“Seamus, you should be taken out and hexed to put us all out of our misery.” Ron picked up his Quidditch magazine and, when Harry made no move to get rid of the one in his hands said, “I’d like to go on record saying this is a shit idea.”

But Harry had never seen anything like this before, and certainly not of the wizarding variety. He flipped to a random page where an arial shot of a man fucking a woman roughly from behind ran on a short loop. Another page showed a closeup of a slender gold chain draped across a large pair of breasts. A woman’s hand, her nails painted a soft pink, traced the chain back and forth, again on a short loop.

Seamus scowled at Ron. “You’re just jealous because Hermione’s got you on a tight leash and you can’t have fun anymore.”

“As if! More like I have a dad that raised six sons to respect a woman enough not to engage in that sort of thing.”

Seamus faked a gagging sound and flipped him two fingers, then went back to his magazine.

Harry flipped to another page, curious now about the looping pictures. “Aren’t wizarding pictures meant to be more - interactive?” He’d have expected the witches to look coyly at the reader and do… something more exciting. Because watching this witch, with her outrageous eye make-up and bright red lips lick a phallic lollipop did nothing to entice him.

“Yeah, you know why it’s repeating itself like that?” Ron said from his bed behind Harry. “Because she doesn’t want to be there. If it were the usual kind of photo she’d be hiding behind whatever props they gave her instead of pretending to fuck it like she likes it. Those are more like muggle moving pictures.”

That made an eerie kind of sense as Harry turned the page and watched the same witch, with fake ecstasy on her face, stick the lollipop -

He threw the magazine at Seamus before that horrible image burned into his brain forever. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s working.”

“Thank fuck,” Ron muttered.

“No, no… you’re just not giving it enough of a chance.” Seamus reached into the box for a _third_ magazine and Harry felt something wither inside. Where had Collin gotten these things? Who would endure the embarrassment of buying these magazines for someone _else_ to wank to? Harry supposed a wizard could just glamour himself and none-the-wiser… but still.

Seamus pulled Harry down next to him and shared the magazine in his hands. On one side, the large photo showed a woman on her back, writhing in pleasure with her blonde hair fanned out around her and her fingers plucking at her nipples while a man buried his face between her legs. In the facing photo, she returned the favour by wrapping cherry red lips around his cock. The image looped on a close-up of the slow drag of his cock in and out of her mouth.

The photo mesmerised Harry. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he understood how the reader was meant to insert himself, to imagine those cherry red lips around his own cock. But that wasn’t what had heat blooming in Harry’s belly. He could almost feel the heavy weight of a cock on his tongue and wondered what that tasted like. His brain flared to life with a single thought. _I think I’m gay_.

“What did you say?”

Harry stood in a rush, knocking the magazine from Seamus’s hands. He tripped over nothing and fell with a thud in bewilderment. Had he said those fucking words _out loud_? What the fuck was wrong with him? His heart clamoured madly and his throat thickened so he couldn’t breathe.

“Harry?” Ron asked tentatively. “Breathe, all right?”

Harry nodded, pulling in a heavy gasp. “I’m not - I’m didn’t mean -”

Seamus picked up his magazine and stared curiously at Harry. “Didn’t mean it? Or didn’t mean to say it out loud?”

“Both! I’m not _gay_ and - and I don’t even know why I said something like that. I just… I don’t like -” Harry’s trembling hand gestured at the magazine in Seamus’s hand. “I don’t like it.”

“What’s there not to like?” Seamus asked, his voice taking on a hard edge. He opened a random page and held it out to Harry. “Don’t you want to be this bloke?”

He stood behind a slender woman, with one hand tilting her head back so he could kiss her throat while the other slowly slid down her body and into the black curls at the juncture of her tightly closed thighs, then back up to caress the space between her plump breasts. The loop played over and over, again making Harry short of breath.

And again for the wrong reasons. 

It was the black cord knotted around the man’s wrist that held Harry’s attention. It complimented the deep olive tone of his skin and kept Harry’s focus on the wide span of his wrist and the thick fingers moving across creamy, pale skin. Harry could feel it, like the ghost of a real touch - what the slide of those fingers down his belly and into the black curls around his own cock would feel like.

As though from a great distance, he heard Ron give a defeated sigh, “Seamus…”

The heat in Harry’s belly soured into a great rush of magic. He had to get out of there. Harry launched himself to his feet and to the door in one smooth motion. When he heard sounds of Ron’s pursuit, his magic lashed out and slammed the door behind him. Without thought, Harry ran for his own room, bursting through the door and straight to the bathroom where he locked himself in.

He didn’t stop moving until he’d turned on both taps for the shower and stood under its spray, not even caring that his clothes were getting soaked. He struggled to breathe deeply while his magic and a barely remembered heat swirled inside him. Bracing his face against an arm pressed to the wall, Harry cupped his growing erection with a low moan.

It kept playing through his head, the imagined slide of thick, masculine fingers down his body and around his cock. The seams on his trousers dissolved with a soft pop, leaving them too wide to sit on his hips. He bit his arm, breathing wetly against the dripping fabric as his other hand wrapped slowly around his now free, fully hard cock. Fucking hell, he’d nearly forgotten how good this could feel.

Desperately he pulled, eagerly chasing the hot rush of an orgasm after so long without. And in that moment, he didn’t even care what got him there. He needed this, needed to know he could still feel like this, that he wasn’t broken. That yes, _fuck_ , his body could respond as it was meant to. At the last moment, the black cord in his imagination turned a vibrant blue and Harry came with a deep groan against the wall of the shower.

He stayed still under the spray for long moments, relishing the wild beat of his heart and the rush of his blood in his veins. As his breathing slowed he focused on the echo of water through the room and reminded himself of where he was and all that had happened. Ron and Seamus. Those fucking magazines.

Harry tossed his glasses into the sink, and tried kicking off his wet trousers and pants, but they caught in his shoes. Fuck, even his shoes. Deciding his wand would be faster, Harry wrestled it from his pocket and banished all his clothes to the floor outside the shower. He exhaled into the spray covering his face and tried to let the water wash away his worries and shame. What was he going to tell his friends? And Ginny? 

Nothing. Because it didn’t mean anything. It was a fluke. A weird, fucked up fluke.

He shut off the water and grabbed a towel from the nearby shelf. He wanted to scream into the terrycloth pressed to his face, but for what purpose? He was fine.

He was fine, he was fine, he was fine.

Knowing the clothes were too soaked to salvage, Harry wrapped the towel around his waist and went to look for pyjamas in his trunk. He did not expect to find all three Slytherin boys sitting on Blaise’s bed smothering laughs.

“Have a good shower, Harry?” Blaise asked.

“I guess the date went well,” Nott added. “Or maybe not well enough.” This must have been their limit, because all three of them started laughing outright.

Harry’s entire body flushed in embarrassment. “Fuck _off_ , Nott,” Harry mumbled, crossing to his trunk.

“Oh, I think we’re definitely onto first names now,” he said, starting another round of guffaws.

Harry ignored them and dug through his trunk, wincing as the uncontrolled magic still slipping out of him dissolved all of the transfiguration and charms on his clothes. _Fuck_ , he did _not_ need this right now. Not having any other options, Harry slid a wide t-shirt over his head as he stood. Since it fell nearly to his knees, he had no trouble dropping the towel to pull on his boxer shorts.

Thankfully they still had the safety pins he used before magic helped them fit. He managed to get one open, despite his fingers feeling clumsy and stiff.

“Merlin, Potter, even your pants?” Blaise asked. “Why don’t you just get new ones?”

“I don’t know, Blaise,” Harry growled as he fumbled the pin and it fell. He was thankful he’d left his glasses in the bathroom, because then he could blame his blurred vision on that instead of the tears that were building in him. “Maybe because this is all I know.” He folded the side seam and wriggled the pin, trying to force it through the layers and layers of fabric. “And I don’t know what I am without it.” Fucking _pin_ , Harry wanted to yell, as it finally slid into place. “That I’m sick of my life tossing me around like a fucking rag doll and this, at least, is something I _know_.”

The laughing had stopped now, but Harry didn’t care to see their pity or confusion over his strange mood. He avoided their silent stares and stood on his bed, letting loose the magic he’d struggled to contain. His curtains whipped shut and his whole bed glowed with layers of wards and enchantments designed to keep everyone out. 

Truly alone and safe at last, Harry sobbed his fears into his pillow.

\--------

Harry woke in the morning feeling groggy and sore, as though he’d been beaten with a stick in the night. He stared at his ceiling, unable to order his thoughts about the coming day. The wards on the bed kept him snug and secure, and perhaps he never had to leave.

Ron would be outside, possibly with Hermione. They would offer love and support, yet ask probing questions he had no answers to.

Seamus would be outside. He would need reassurance that Harry wasn’t one of ‘those sorts’ with proof that Harry intended to shag Ginny as soon as possible.

Ginny. Would Ron think she needed to know? Would she be outside? Perhaps with a knowing look and subtle words about desire and reluctance?

Blaise, Theo, Draco… Would they be outside? Perhaps curious about what drove him to furiously wank in the shower, clothes and all? They didn’t know about the magazines, about Harry’s stupid words, about the unwanted images that got him off.

And the final thought that had him drawing his blanket over his head, maybe they _did_ know. Maybe everyone knew because gossip coursed through their close quarters almost as it happened.

He lasted until nearly lunchtime before hunger drove him out of bed. As he dressed, he convinced himself that nothing had changed, and that things could certainly go on as before. He was going to eat lunch with Ginny, fly with Ginny, and then talk to Ginny about their future. Because he wanted a future with Ginny, which was normal and what he’d hoped for all along.

He peeked into the corridor, relieved to find it empty. But Ron must have set a silent alarm of some kind, because he popped out of his room as soon as Harry emerged.

“You all right?” Ron asked, looking like he might spontaneously hug Harry. “You had us worried.”

“I didn’t sleep well.” Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked towards the stairs. His skin prickled and tension crept down his spine. A hug would likely send him spiralling again.

Ron fell into step beside him, a soft smile on his face. “Neither did I. Your magic did quite a number on our door.”

“It did?” Harry didn’t remember much about leaving Ron’s room, just the slam of the door.

“Yeah, you could have just said you wanted to be alone. It took me and Hermione almost two hours to get the wards down so Terry and Malfoy could come in for bed. She wanted to do your bed next, but I convinced her you might bolt if we did.”

After a moment of silence, Harry said, “Is everyone talking about it?”

“Word is Ginny was sick last night and ruined your date. You had to reschedule for this afternoon and you were… indisposed last night.” He said this last with a suggestive, over-the-top wink that might have made Harry laugh in any other situation.

Harry looked around and whispered, “But the - the magazines. And what I said -”

“You locked us in for teasing you about Ginny and your blue balls. Even Seamus said so.” 

Some of the tension leached away and his skin didn’t tingle so much. “Okay. That’s okay then, right?”

“Seems so. But Harry, if you need to talk about it…”

“Yeah, no it’s fine. It was just… it’s fine.”

Thankfully Ron let it go and the two of them finished the walk to the Great Hall in silence. Harry smiled when he saw Ginny and, ignoring her worried scan of his face, pulled her into a deep kiss. 

“Harry!” she said in surprise. 

“Let’s run away somewhere special and hidden,” he said with a smile. She giggled with a mix of happiness and confusion all over her face. “Except I missed breakfast so let’s eat first. But quickly, yeah?”

“Yes, of course,” she said with a wide, excited smile. 

Harry held her hand throughout the meal, even though that meant eating with his awkward left hand. He fed her bits of fruit, and shared his tea with her. Between bites he kissed her cheeks and nuzzled her nose playfully. Before they really finished eating, he dragged her from the hall and down to the Quidditch pitch.

“Did you have sweet dreams?” she asked as he pressed her against the stands.

“Not really,” he whispered against the soft skin of her neck. He ran his fingers into her hair and tilted her head back to kiss her, shedding all of his worries to live in this one, delicious moment.

“Mm, I heard you were missing me.”

“Yes…” His hands found her hips and pulled her flush against him. This was going to work, it _had_ to, now that he knew his body remembered how. He’d managed last night, he could manage now.

Ginny took his hand and led him towards the changing rooms, glancing up the path to school. “We can’t here, too many people might catch us.” She locked them inside and pushed Harry down onto a bench. “You all right in here?”

“Anywhere with you.” 

She tossed her cloak to the ground and helped Harry out of his coat. “Is this new?” she asked, running her hands down his shirt and then pulling it over his head.

Harry ignored her question. If she thought enough about his wild magic, she could figure out what happened to the transfiguration of his clothes. He didn’t want to talk about any of that, or think about - about anything that happened yesterday. But trying not to think only made him think all the harder and suddenly his mind overflowed with images he couldn’t control.

And despite his best efforts, it wasn’t Ginny’s soft breast in his hand or the seductive roll of her hips that made his blood sing. She moaned in pleasure at the press of his half hard cock against her and something cracked inside Harry.

“It’s not you,” he blurted out, rising to his feet and forcing her off him. Turning away, he buried his hands in his hair and groaned. “It’s not you.” He kicked the wall in front of him and leaned against it with a heavy sigh. “Gin… I’m so sorry.”

“Harry,” she said softly. 

Her fingers grazed his back but he flinched away. Holding out a hand he summoned his shirt. “Yesterday was… utter shit and I thought I was getting myself back together. But I’m not. I’m a mess and - I can’t do this right now. With you.”

“Wait, Harry, please.” She picked up his coat and held it to her chest. “I don’t understand.”

She deserved an explanation, didn’t she? A partial truth, at least. He sat on the bench and dropped his head in his hands. “Growing up, I wanted a family that loved me. A home that really felt like home. And you came along… and I held on to this ideal. Of us, of our home…” He cut off and scrubbed at his face.

“I want that too, Harry.”

“I don’t want to be different. I don’t want to change. I don’t want to let go of the things I longed for for so long.”

“Harry…” She sniffed and tentatively reached for his hand. He laced their fingers together but a spark of his loose magic made her snatch her hand away. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I think that’s the problem, Ginny. I don’t either. Not anymore. Not since I died and everything went wrong.” He closed his eyes and let the memories wash over him. The Forbidden Forest, the flash of green light, the glaring white of the in-between. And the moment he could choose coming back or staying behind. And the tiny piece of not-him that _did_ stay behind. “I’m sorry. I need… I need some time alone.” 

He gently took his coat from her hands so as not to hurt her again. She didn’t cry or beg him to stay, but offered him a small smile and a quiet, “I love you,” in goodbye.

\--------

Flying burned away his fear and misery, leaving a false sense of calm that likely wouldn’t last long beyond landing. He hadn’t paid close attention to his direction when he left school, and didn’t really know where he’d ended up. But going back to school wasn’t a top priority. There were too many questions, too many curious onlookers, and too many tainted memories.

Instead, Harry wanted to find a quiet place to think. No one would mind him taking a day or two to himself. But where to go? He could see if Grimmauld Place was livable. It at least had shelter, and easily obtainable food. Or perhaps another visit to his parents? Talking to them might clear his mind.

He pulled a galleon from his pocket. To absolutely no one, he said, “Wizards it’s Grimmauld Place, dragons it’s Godric’s Hollow.” He flipped the coin and smacked it on the back of his hand. “Godric’s Hollow it is.”

Taking up his broom, Harry closed his eyes and focused on the now-familiar stone of his parents’ graves. With his magic under control once again, he had no trouble turning on the spot and Apparating with a small pop.

Would he ever get used to the sick press of nothingness? Shaking it off, he opened his eyes to see he’d landed exactly as he meant to. And that he wasn’t alone.

“Want me to send a patronus to Hermione?” Ron asked with a smile, waving his wand in question.

“How did you find me?” Harry asked, his heart lightening to see his closest friend. What a relief to find a familiar face when he needed one so badly.

“Ginny said you ran. We knew you’d find a quiet place eventually. Either Grimmauld Place or here. So we flipped a coin and I got here.”

Harry laughed and conjured them a bench to sit on, facing his parents’ headstone. “I flipped a coin too.”

“So… Hermione?”

Harry huffed a deep breath and sighed. “Let her know I’m all right. And we can meet her back at school.”

With a swirl of his wand, Ron’s terrier bounded off across the cemetery. He didn’t say anything else, and Harry didn’t know what to say to break the ice. Never had companionable silence given Harry such trouble.

Ron eased the way. “You remember the first time we flew at Hermione’s parents’ house in Australia? And how worried Hermione was?”

Harry smiled at the memory, and the strict instructions a nervous Hermione had given them. “Half hour out, half hour back in. Straight line, no detours.”

“Right but our ‘straight lines’ resulted in a ‘V’ instead of a straight line and we were another half hour flight from the house at the end of an hour. Bloody hell, did Hermione have a field day with that one.” He stretched his legs out and tapped his toes together. “Yeah, but then we learned the landscape. That funny tree, the long trench leading nowhere. And flying got easier.”

Flying in Australia, with its large open stretches of uninhabited land, had been a new experience Harry would never forget. That was where he learned how to be free of the weight of the war.

“Harry,” Ron said with a voice gone deeper and more serious, “I would fly with you anywhere. I just… need to learn the landmarks.”

Harry let Ron’s quiet support wash over him while he decided how to start. “You know I love Ginny, right?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“It’s just… lately… with all this trouble we’ve been having…” Harry trailed off, afraid that voicing his fears would give them life. He scrubbed at his hair in frustration. “I keep thinking about the horcruxes.”

“Okay,” Ron said slowly.

“The diary and the snake… they both died so quickly, there wasn’t time to think or react. And the diadem… it tried but there was no one close enough to save it.”

“Yeah.”

“And - Dumbledore never told me about the ring but you can imagine it didn’t go quietly.” Harry sniffed and wiped at his nose. “Especially after what you and Hermione said about destroying the cup. And the locket...”

Ron shuddered and closed his eyes to block those memories. “This is about the locket? About what you saw?”

“Yes and no. I mean, I saw it and how horrible it was. Felt it first hand, even if it wasn’t targeting me.” Harry stuttered while memory choked him. Ron reached for Harry but dropped his hand into his lap at the last second. “That night in the Forbidden Forest. I remembered her. Ginny.” The image of her - her blazing look, and the feel of her lips on his - burned just as brightly as it did that night.

“Yeah, you told me.”

“And lately I think… maybe that wasn’t me at all.” He stood, needing to get away from the heat of Ron’s body, and the risk he might forget himself and reach for Harry after all. “I think it was the horcrux. Throwing her image at me. To keep me from dying. To keep itself alive.”

A heavy silence pressed on Harry from all sides and he rushed to fill it. “I used to - _feel_ so fucking much for her. I - I was jealous. So fucking jealous all the time when she dated Dean and Michael. And now… _fuck_ ,” Harry dug the heel of his palms into his eyes. “She said she slept with someone else last year. ‘More than one,’ that’s what she said. And all I could think was, ‘Good on you for finding comfort in those dark times.’ I didn’t even fucking _care_.”

A sob broke from his throat and Harry dropped to his knees. “I don’t know anymore. What I wanted then and what I want now. I don’t know what I _am_. Even before - before Seamus and his great, fucking help… Ginny said -” Another sob choked him. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck_!” 

Harry ended on a deep scream, burning his throat and tearing all his fears free to wreak their havoc. He pressed his hands into the dirt, causing a wide ring of ripples through the ground as magic poured from him until finally, exhausted, he hunched over his knees, trying to breathe deeply and not throw up all over himself. 

When he could finally sit up, with only the occasional hiccup, he found a handkerchief held out to him. He wiped his face clean and shuddered, determined not to start crying again.

“Harry,” Ron whispered hoarsely. “Please, can I hug you?”

And fuck if his tears didn’t start up again, but he nodded anyway. Ron’s arms came around him and the press of his arms made Harry tense. But Ron needed it, Harry knew he did. He withstood it as long as he could but the harsh prickle of his skin finally made him shrug Ron’s arms off.

Ron pulled away without complaint, wiping at his own red-rimmed eyes. Harry took a few shaky breaths and said, “I don’t know anymore. What was me, and what was that piece of him - making me feel things. Was it even real? What Ginny and I had before?”

“Of course it was you, Harry,” Ron said quietly.

But Harry didn’t believe it. “Remember the Sorting Hat? Telling me I could go to Slytherin? Voldemort. The Parseltongue I’ve forgotten now? Voldemort. The Dementors after me all the time? Seeking that extra bit of soul in me. The link we shared… Sirius… always _Voldemort_. In me, destroying me, shaping me. How can I believe it wasn’t him that desired Ginny like that?”

“Harry, you’re still you. You know you are. You love me and Hermione. Love Ginny in her own way. You love flying and treacle tart, and you’re shit at chess.”

“But I was something else before, and now -” He picked up a rock and threw it as far as he could. “Stuck in the in-between… that little piece of _him_ died. And after having it in me so long… What am I now?

“You have time to figure it out, Harry. We’re all still trying to figure ourselves out, now that the war’s over. It shaped our entire childhood and now - poof - it’s over.” Ron hesitated and picked up a rock to toss between his hands. “You’re just in a unique position of having to work past _two_ wars.” He tossed the rock to Harry, who caught it in reflex.

Harry hadn’t considered that, how the first war had shaped his life so severely - taking his parents, sending him to the Dursleys, and implanting the horcrux in the first place.

“This is the _you_ you would be,” Ron continued, “if there’d been no Voldemort at all. Your parents lived, raised you in a loving home, and sent you off to school. You had a girlfriend, but that’s complicated and might not work out so… What’s next? Maybe you want to try a new girlfriend.” When Harry involuntarily cringed, Ron said, “Or maybe you want to try a boyfriend.”

Harry shuddered, “I can’t just… you know what people will say?” He’d already heard it all from his horrible aunt and uncle, but more recently, saw it reflected in Seamus’s hard look. It couldn’t possibly be as easy as Ron made it sound. “And what if I’m wrong? All that turmoil and gossip for nothing.”

“Not for _nothing_. Just part of growing up and trying new things. But Harry, I know it’s only been a day since the thought occurred to you in the first place but - that was a pretty visceral reaction and that has to mean something.”

Harry dropped his head in his hands and said in a small voice. “I can’t be gay.”

“Actually, you _can_ be. Even if it’s just to keep the other witches off you when they find out you’re not with Ginny anymore.”

This surprised a laugh from Harry that quickly drowned in worry. “It’s not so easy. You know it isn’t, when I’m already spotlighted. All the gossip…”

“Fuck what people say! Go be gay as pink ink! I guarantee there’s gotta be at least one other boy at school that would be over-the-moon to be spotlighted along with you.”

Harry felt his lips quirk up in a smile. “Gay as pink ink?”

“Something George used to say. Look, so long as you’re not after my arse, I don’t care who you take up with. You’ll always have me and Hermione. And your someone new. Ginny might need some time to come around but you know she’ll love you forever.”

“Ginny… is going to need some kind of explanation,” Harry said with reluctance. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Definitely not with ‘the horcrux wanted to shag you.’”

“Ron, you utter git!” Harry snorted. He dropped his head into his hands. “This will be a nightmare.”

“Go with the usual - you’re different people, grew apart in the war, and blah, blah, blah. But you know that won’t be enough to dissuade her. And telling her about the horcrux will crush her and bring back every bad thing from the war she does her best to ignore. You’re going to have to tell her you’re gay.”

“I don’t know how. It’s too new.” Was it even real? Maybe a practice run would help. Harry pushed himself to his feet and took a deep breath, focusing on his parents’ gravestone. What would they think of having a gay son? He had no way of knowing and with both Remus and Sirius gone… there was no one left who might know what they’d think. He decided to imagine they’d be supportive of anything that made him happy, so long as he was safe. “Mum, Dad… I think I’m gay.”

“Nope,” Ron interrupted. “You have to be sure.”

“What if I’m not sure?”

“You have to be sure when you say it to Ginny. If you’re full of ‘I think’ then she’ll be full of ‘I can change your mind.’”

“Right.” Harry heaved another sigh. “Mum, Dad… I’m gay. Probably. Almost certainly. And I have to tell my girlfriend and she’s probably going to hate me and things are -” Harry sniffed and drew in a shaky breath. “Things are probably going to be difficult in the coming days. And… I wish you were here.”

Saying the words out loud relieved a burden Harry didn’t know he carried. He sat heavily on the bench next to Ron and they basked in the silence until the sun began to disappear over the horizon. For the first time in weeks, Harry felt at peace.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry’s calm started to crumble almost as soon as Ron Apparated them to Hogsmeade. The drain on his magic and the emotional outpouring left him raw and open. How could he let anyone see him like this?

Ron steadied Harry and said, “What do you say to dinner at the Three Broomsticks? So we can avoid the Great Hall.”

“Brilliant!” Harry said with relief. 

After banishing Harry’s borrowed school broom to the castle, Ron purchased food for them to eat on the walk back to the castle. 

Harry unwrapped his meat pie and laughed, “I can’t believe after all that’s happened, we’re strolling along snacking on Rosmerta’s pies.”

“Still gotta eat,” Ron said simply.

“I’m nervous.”

“I know.”

Harry side-eyed Ron and tried to say casually, “You know, you’re taking the news rather well.” But then, so was Harry. He could freak out later. In private.

“After being locked in with Seamus for two hours and having to listen to him rant about disgusting poofs and how you couldn’t _possibly_ be like _that_... I don’t know, somehow I got over it. I had all night to process and - so long as you’re not crushing on me -” He paused and turned a questioning look on Harry.

Harry scrunched up his face and laughed, “Not hardly! You’re too close to ‘brother’ to ever be ‘boyfriend.’”

“Good to know. And what I said was true too. I’d fly with you anywhere and,” he bumped shoulders with Harry, “you’re still the same you.”

He held out his butterbeer bottle and Harry clinked his against it with a smile. The closer they got to the school, the slower Harry’s feet moved. By the end, it was only the sight of Hermione sitting inside the gate waiting for them that kept him moving forward. She closed her book when Ron called her name, and met them on the path with a wide smile.

“Oh Harry, we were so worried. But you’re all right now?”

“Yeah,” Harry said. “I think I am anyway.” She held out her arms and he stepped into a hug that lasted a beat too long, causing Ron to join in as well. “Is Ginny all right?” Harry asked when they finally separated.

Hermione sniffed and wiped her eyes. “Perhaps a little confused. She’s waiting by the lake for you. Are you really okay?”

“I will be. I need to talk to Ginny. Ron can fill you in. And we can talk later.”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

He waited a moment, to watch Hermione and Ron walk away, hand in hand. Ron said something that made her laugh, a skill he had perfected in Australia to cheer her when the pressure of fixing her parents threatened to overwhelm her. Ron had held her on those long nights and learned just what to say to bring her out of her gloom. And now, Harry couldn’t imagine them being apart. He hoped one day he could find someone to hold as tightly. With a sigh, he walked to the lake. At this hour of the evening, only one person sat on its shore, surrounded by a faint glow. 

“Can I share your warming charm?”

“Harry!” Ginny said in surprise. “Thank goodness you’re all right.” She flicked her wand and sent the warming charm over Harry as he sat next to her. “I was so worried and I didn’t know where to wait for you.”

“This is nice,” he said, looking over a lake as black as shadows. “Chilly, before your charm.” 

“Well, it’s at least private. The Ravenclaws have booked the pitch so…” She hugged her legs to her chest and rested her head on her knees. “You were gone a long time.”

“I flew for a while. Didn’t really have a direction in mind so kind of ended up nowhere. Then I Apparated to Godric’s Hollow. I thought maybe I could talk to my parents… clear my head a little.”

“And did it work?”

“Yeah it did. Especially with Ron there.”

“I wanted to go find you… but I couldn’t leave school.”

“I know. It’s fine. I needed some time alone.” He took her hand and she leaned into him with a soft sigh. “You said, yesterday, that we could talk about the things we wanted. I want to hear what you want. From us.”

“Oh, erm… Okay.” She laughed nervously, “I wasn’t sure there was still an ‘us.’” Harry squeezed her hand in response. “Well, I want to fly,” she said, looking out over the lake. “For the Harpies preferably, but I’ll take what I can get. There’s a scouting camp held at the Tornado’s stadium over the Christmas holiday, and my parents have made arrangements for me to go.”

“That’s great news.”

“I hope so.” She knocked their shoulders together with a grin. “You’ll come visit me on weekends, I’ll come stay with you during the off season. Somewhere in there we’ll get married. Get a little house, maybe somewhere near my parents. After a few years of flying, I’ll retire and we’ll have a million babies.”

“I _do_ want a million babies,” Harry said, then lapsed into silence again. Building a family with another bloke would mean jumping larger and more complicated hurdles. But that was a thought for another day when he wasn’t only eighteen years old and about to break up with his girlfriend. “And… while you’re flying. What did you imagine I was doing?”

“I used to think you’d be in Auror training for those first three years. Too busy to miss me, you know? But now,” she snuggled in closer to him, working his arm around her shoulders, “I’m so relieved that you’re not taking that route. Whatever happens with us, I don’t want to be worrying about you forever.”

Harry rested his head on hers, enjoying the warmth of their little bubble. “So now what do you imagine me doing, while you’re the brightest star Quidditch has ever seen?”

There was a smile in her voice when she said, “I honestly don’t know anymore. Flying yourself. Maybe Quidditch, maybe broom racing.”

“Hmm… that’s an option I guess.”

Ginny’s fingers carded through his hair and down his cheek. “What about you? What did you want for us?” Her eyes met his, shining and full of hope. And Harry hated himself for what he had to say.

“I want to leave England.” He paused while her face froze in its half-smile, but continued on before she could speak. “Not permanently, just for long enough that everyone stops staring and whispering everywhere I go. I want to be in a place where no one knows I’m Harry Potter. I want to see new places and eat new foods. I want…”

Her fingers laced with his, warm and comforting. Her voice didn’t waver as she quietly asked, “What do you want, Harry?”

“I want to discover the ‘me’ I would have been without Voldemort.”

“And you think…” Her voice dropped with the weight of discovery. “You can’t do that with me along.”

“Gin, we’re so young and…” He sighed and stared out over the lake. “There’s just so _much_ out there and - and it sounds like I don’t have much of a place in your dream.” Really, any bloke could fill his space in her future.

“Even if my focus is on flying, I still want you with me. And we can still travel if you want. In the off season and -”

“It’s not about the travel. It’s about… who we _are_. You’ve wanted to fly for as long as I’ve known you, and the war didn’t change that. But I’m… I’m not the same person I was before.”

“So… you want, what? For me to wait. Again. While you find yourself?”

“It sounds shitty when you put it like that.”

She gave him a disbelieving stare. “Yeah, it kind of does. Am I wrong?”

“I think… it’s not that I want you to wait for me… It’s that… I think when I _do_ find myself, you won’t fit there with me any more.”

“Fucking hell, Harry.” Ginny stood, breaking the warming charm around them, and walked several paces away. 

Harry let the cold air seep into his bones, too tired to cast his own warming charm. Perhaps he should have saved this conversation until he’d had a good night’s sleep. “Ginny, I’m sorry. Earlier - I drained a lot of magic. I cried like a baby for I-don’t-know how long and… I’m exhausted and confused and… I’m sorry I sound so mean. I can’t think of the right words - or what I want to say -”

“This hurts so much worse than in fifth year,” she said, her voice thick with sorrow. “At least then you had a noble cause.” She sniffed again, and Harry wondered if he should go and comfort her, or if that would only make it worse. He’d never been much good with tears, either his or other people’s. “I don’t know what to think right now.”

“I still love you Gin -”

She laughed bitterly, “Oh Harry, you do know how to twist the knife.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” She wiped her nose and Harry wished he had enough magic in him to conjure a handkerchief for her. “You know what? I can’t do this right now. I thought I could but - I just can’t.”

“Can we talk tomorrow?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. This is - not what I expected.” Harry thought of reaching for her, but she pulled her arms close around her body while he dithered. Avoiding his eyes, she said, “I’m going back to the castle. Give me a head start?”

“Yeah, sure, okay.” He pressed his lips together to resist saying ‘I love you’ one more time. He summoned what magic remained in him and cast a warming charm around her, although in his state it wouldn’t provide much protection against the night air. Ginny nodded her thanks anyway and whispered _lumos_ to light her way back.

Harry watched the light for as long as he could, almost wishing things could be different.

\--------

Harry gave a long luxurious stretch to his muscles then burrowed deeper into his covers. He’d slept better than he would have expected and didn’t want to let go of the peace of his quiet bed. But his stomach rumbled and the real world awaited.

Outside his bed curtains, Ron and Hermione played chess on Kevin’s bed. “At last he arises!” Ron cheered.

Harry rubbed his eyes and his hair. “What time is it?”

“Almost ten. We saved you some breakfast.” Ron indicated a plate on Kevin’s trunk. 

Harry sat on the trunk and ate a grape. “I slept like a stone last night.” He spread a bit of jam on his toast and ate it in two bites.

“Not surprised,” Ron said, “given all that happened yesterday.” He glanced at Hermione before saying, “Ginny didn’t come to breakfast either.”

Harry nodded and swallowed heavily. “Yeah things didn’t go so well last night.”

Hermione offered him a conjured glass of water, and a sad smile. “Emma said Ginny went to bed without saying much to anyone. They jumped to their own conclusions and have been hinting around that things are - rocky - between you two.”

“I’d say we’ve both drowned in yesterday’s avalanche.” Harry sighed and set the plate aside. “I shouldn’t have tried to talk to her last night. I was so exhausted and I only made things worse.”

“Give her some time. This sort of change doesn’t come easily.” Hermione shook herself lightly. “What about you? How are you feeling this morning?”

“Not bad, actually.” Harry smiled at Ron. “You said the right thing - about me and what I would have been without Voldemort. It’s been filling my thoughts and - making me feel better about how things have been since May. I feel free. Not like when I put to rest all the sadness of the war, but - I don’t know, like a new me.”

“A new you,” Hermione echoed. “That sounds lovely. And,” she paused dramatically, “about a new, _specific_ revelation you’ve had -”

“Hermione,” Ron groaned at the same time Harry did.

She frowned at them both with a teasing kind of seriousness. “I have questions.”

“I figured you would. My answer to all of it is, ‘I don't know,’ and possibly, ‘That’s a little too personal.’” Harry picked up another piece of toast and inclined his head to the bathroom. “I’m going to get changed, and then we can take a walk before lunch.” He winked at them to show no hard feelings and closed the door behind him.

While they meandered around the grounds, Harry filled them in on his talk with Ginny. After thinking about it for a while last night, Harry concluded they just weren’t in the same place anymore. Neither Harry nor Ginny were very good at confronting the hurts they’d been dealt, and Ginny seemed particularly focused on flying as a way of distracting herself from war trauma. Harry had moved past it in a way she hadn’t yet managed, and wanted something different from the future.

Not yet ready to face her for lunch in the Great Hall, Harry suggested they picnic by the pitch and go for a fly after. Ron and Hermione went to the kitchen for a basket, and Harry went up to their dorms to get their brooms. He didn’t think he could handle another flight on a school broom. He really did need to work on replacing them.

He opened his door to find Draco Malfoy leaning over his bed. “Looking for something?” Harry asked, determined not to jump to cruel conclusions about Malfoy snooping in his things.

Malfoy squealed and nearly dropped the quaffle-sized box in his hands. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be at lunch!”

“Well I’m not.” Harry crossed his arms over his chest with a stern look. “I think the better question is what you’re doing mucking about in my bed.”

“Oh Merlin, you weren’t supposed to see me.” He laughed nervously at Harry’s frown. “No, I mean, I was leaving this for you. A gift.” He shook his head. “Only you weren’t supposed to know it was from me and now - ugh, it’s going to be so weird and awkward. Bloody fucking hell.”

Harry’s defensive stance softened. “You got me a present?”

“No! I mean yes, but I can’t give it to you now.” He looked down at the plain white box. “This is stupid. I’ll just go.”

“No, wait. Let me see it.” Harry reached for the box but Malfoy ducked away.

“No, you can’t.” He turned and jerked the box erratically to keep Harry from grabbing it. “Stop it!” 

Harry ended up wrestling Malfoy to the ground and dug his thumb into the pressure point of Malfoy’s wrist. With a strangled cry, Malfoy surrendered the box.

“Please don’t open it,” Malfoy said in a tiny voice. “It was meant to be a secret.”

Harry already had the lid off and lifted out - a pair of navy blue y-fronts. He blinked in confusion. “You - bought me - underpants?” Skimpy ones, too. These didn’t look like they’d cover very much.

“Oh sweet fucking Merlin,” Malfoy said, covering his face with his hands. “Of all the times I’ve wanted the floor to swallow me whole, this is definitely the most recent.”

A laugh escaped Harry before his brain caught up to what was happening. “Why would you buy me pants?”

“Fuck!” Malfoy got to his feet and turned pleading eyes on Harry. “I’m so sorry. We were teasing you and we shouldn’t have and those boxer shorts were horrible and you just needed new ones. You shouldn’t have to put up with all that itching in,” he gestured at his groin, “such a sensitive area and I don’t know, it seemed like a good idea when you didn’t know it was me.”

“Wow, I genuinely don’t know what to say.” Harry rifled through the box, revealing silk and cotton and solids and stripes. “This is the weirdest, most embarrassing nice thing anyone has ever done for me.” He held up a red silk pair of boxer shorts and gave Malfoy a disbelieving look.

Malfoy groaned again. “I’m so sorry. I know this looks awful. But the shop clerk was flirting with me - at least I think so - and I got flustered and you weren’t supposed to know it was from me!”

“Right, sure. And now, I’ll think of you every single time I put on my underpants.”

Covering his face, Malfoy whimpered, “Please just stop.”

“Oh come on, you heard me wanking, you can at least give me this.” Harry laughed at Malfoy’s tomato-red face, but then took pity on him. He set the box in his trunk and said, “So, flirting with a muggle, eh? How’d that go?”

“Oh,” Malfoy looked down at his feet, and managed to deepen his blush even more. He stuttered, “W-w-well it seemed like flirting? Sometimes it’s hard to tell, but I got an invitation for a coffee so - yeah, but I had Blaise waiting for me so...”

“Nice, Malfoy.”

“I’ve heard you wanking and bought you underpants, I think we’re firmly on first names now.”

“Right. Draco.” On a first name basis with Draco Malfoy. What would eleven-year-old Harry think of that? Or, more importantly, what did no-Voldemort Harry think of that? Harry laughed lightly. “Harry and Draco. Draco and Harry. Sounds strange, yeah?”

And suddenly, all Harry could think of was what no-Voldemort-probably- _gay_ Harry might make of a ‘Draco and Harry’ situation. A warmth spread through him and he had to admit that Draco was rather easy on the eyes. Especially now that the vivid tomato-red had faded to just a light tint on his cheeks, and his smile had widened into something soft and companionable.

“It’ll certainly take getting used to.”

“Right, yeah.” Harry cast about for anything to change the subject to, now that his body started responding to his wayward thoughts about Draco’s smile. “My broom! I forgot I came here for my broom.”

“Yes, and… I should head to lunch before Blaise wonders where I am. It was a tricky thing, hiding the box and all from him.”

Harry shouldered his broom. “He didn’t wonder why you were here alone?” He held the door open for Draco.

“No, Theo found us as we came into the castle, and took Blaise to lunch while I dropped our purchases off.”

“I need to get Ron’s broom too.” In the next room, Harry couldn’t help but notice the large number of bags on Malfoy’s bed. “You two did quite a bit of shopping.”

“We stayed overnight in Edinburgh. Blaise said he wanted more muggle clothes, since wizarding styles are heading that way this year.”

“You were gone all night? I didn’t even notice.” Harry gave him a sheepish smile. “Sorry… I had a lot going on yesterday.”

Draco shrugged it off as they headed down the stairs. “No worries. I don’t expect you to keep up with my whereabouts at all hours.”

At the main entrance, Harry said, “Thanks again, Draco. For the box. It’s not something I would have sought to fix on my own.”

“You’re welcome. And let’s not ever mention it again. Ever.”

Harry shared Draco’s grin. “Agreed.”

Ron and Harry didn’t fly very long, not wanting to leave Hermione by herself. Mostly they laid on a transfigured blanket and nibbled treats from the House Elves and talked about lessons and homework to keep things light. It reminded Harry so keenly of their afternoons in Australia, despite the dreary sky and cold breeze, when they shared everything and nothing with each other. 

But now, Harry kept secret the entire interaction with Draco, knowing they would read too much into the situation. It stayed there, in the back of his mind, warming him and keeping a small grin on his face. He needed to reevaluate their previous interactions in private. Maybe it would give him clarity about the issue at hand.

His glow dimmed when Ginny joined them. Harry didn’t know what to expect from her, and the bland smile she gave him didn’t reassure him in any way.

“They stared at me all through lunch.”

“Not terribly unusual,” he responded hesitantly. Was she angry about it? Angry at him?

“I hadn’t noticed it before.” She pointed at Ron’s broom. “Can we borrow the brooms?”

“Of course!” Ron said quickly. “Hermione and I were just talking about heading back. So… we’ll see you two later.” Hermione gave Ginny a hug, then walked hand-in-hand with Ron towards the path to school.

“You want to fly?” Harry asked. 

“A few laps? Just to clear my head.”

Harry’s heart soared that all was not lost between them. A few laps turned into a breakneck speed race, and then Ginny charmed a small rock to fly for Harry to chase. Finally, they landed on top of the Gryffindor stands, windswept and grinning.

Ginny swirled a warming charm on their little corner and sat with several inches of space between them. It felt like miles to Harry, well accustomed by now to her body pressed snug against his.

“I’m sorry about yesterday. About the things I said,” he began.

She held up a hand. “It was all true. We’re not what we were, and we want different things.” She sighed and took his hand. “All through lunch it was sidelong glances and little whispers. And I know it must happen all the time, but I never noticed before. But today, when I was - hurting so much… I wanted to scream and run and - I guess I understand why you want to get away from here for a little while.” She turned wide, pleading eyes on him. “I just don’t understand why you can’t take me with you when you do.”

“Oh Gin, it’s more complicated than that.”

“But this isn’t like last time! We’re not in danger, not fighting a war. We can still be together, even if I’m playing Quidditch. We can grow back together, can’t we?” 

“Gin, it’s not that…”

“It’s just not fair! I’ve loved you forever, Harry! When I was little - ugh, it was such a stupid, embarrassing crush. But you saved me. In the Chamber. And I knew - we were connected in some way.”

He remembered like it happened yesterday, the way her body faded as her soul left her. Was that when their connection was forged? Did the horcrux inside him recognize her when Voldemort woke it up years later? 

“Gin,” he croaked, his throat tight. He couldn’t tell her. How could he say it wasn’t him that desired her, but a piece of Voldemort?

“Harry please don’t give up on us. I know you’re meant to be mine.” She caressed his cheek, her eyes brightening with unshed tears. “I know I’m meant to be yours.”

“Ginny,” he tried again. He took her hand and pressed his lips together. “I do love you. But…” Merlin, _fuck_ , did this have to hurt so much? “I can’t love you the way you want.” 

Ginny’s hope crumpled into sad confusion. Harry squeezed her hand to keep her from interrupting, and knew he had to lay all his cards on the table. “Ginny - I’m gay.” Adrenaline shot through Harry and the hard thumping of his heart gave him a slight out-of-body feeling as he watched her face run through a thousand emotions. 

“What? That’s - mad! That’s impossible!” She shook her head, squeezing her eyes tight. “No, it’s not - you’re not _gay_ , Harry. We were - we were -” She broke off, gasping for breath.

“I know. Before, everything was different. But I died and - I came back different. I can’t explain it but everything’s felt off since then, and then I -” he cut off and ruffled his hair in frustration. He didn’t want to go into the sordid details with Seamus’s magazines, or bare his raw emotions more than he already had. “I can’t pretend anymore.”

“So yesterday when you were -” She shook her head. “You said it wasn’t me and - I thought maybe there was another girl you fancied.” Her face dropped into her hands. “Fuck, I don’t know what’s happening right now.”

“I’m sorry Gin, so very sorry.”

She smothered a sob in her hands and her shoulders trembled. “I guess it was another _boy_ you fancied,” she said bitterly. “Damn it, I didn’t want to cry!”

“Gin,” he said softly. His arms came around her and she finally let her tears flow. Harry, enveloped in a strange calm, rubbed circled down her back and rocked her until her tears slowed.

“This is the stuff of nightmares.” She wiped her eyes with her sleeve and gave a sad, wet laugh. “And we’re not in a position to use those words lightly.”

“Yeah it was a shocking revelation for me too. But unmistakable when it happened.”

“Much like our first kiss, yeah?” She laughed at his sheepish look. “Oh Harry, you silly, oblivious boy.” For a moment he worried she would ask what happened. But she blinked away more tears instead. “You always were shit at knowing what you wanted. Figures this would take you by surprise.” Looking down at her sleeve, she asked, “Are you sure? There’s nothing for us?”

“I’m so sorry Gin. If it could be any witch, it would be you. You’re one of my best friends and - I do love you. But you have to admit, we’ve been happiest when we didn’t have sex hanging over us like a dark cloud.”

She wiped her eyes and nodded. “I don’t want it to be true.” She rested her head on his shoulder and he tucked her in close to his side. “It’s going to be hard to let you go.” 

They sat in silence for a few moments, broken only by her occasional sniff. “So is there? A boy you fancy?”

“Ginny!” He joined her in laughing, so relieved they’d passed the worst of it. “No, not yet.” Draco’s smile from earlier flitted through his mind, but Harry wanted to wait until he was alone to explore that further. Which brought another unwelcome thought along with it. “Gin,” he said quietly, “I know it’s a lot to ask but… please don’t tell anyone. I’m not ready to talk about it yet.”

“Right, no, of course not.” An expectant pause settled, and Harry tensed, waiting for Ginny to speak. “I know what it’s like, having those feelings you can’t explain and don’t understand.” She stood and fussed with her broom. “You take the time you need to work it out.” 

“Yeah, okay.” Harry picked up his own broom, unsure of what to make of her stiff, tense movements.

Finally she turned to smile at him, but a new sadness made the edges brittle. Then she straightened to kiss his cheek, and the odd moment passed. “So far as they know, we just grew apart after the war. We want different things.” She rolled her eyes. “Unfortunately this’ll be hot gossip for weeks.”

They mounted their brooms and flew slowly for the castle. Harry said over the wind, “We need a spectacular event to distract everyone.”

“I bet we could get Seamus to blow something up.”

Harry shared a laugh with Ginny, despite knowing Seamus wasn’t going to help him with anything once word got out. Because there was no way word wouldn’t get out that Harry Potter was gay.

\--------

Harry couldn’t hide his surprise when Ginny sat next to him at dinner. “Is this to quieten gossip, or keep it going?”

“I want everyone to know there are no hard feelings. Gossip loves broken hearts.” She kissed his cheek and served herself some salad. “Plus, we’ll always be family, even if it’s not the family I envisioned.”

Harry gave her a warm smile. “Oh good. I’m pants at making new friends.”

Ginny rolled her eyes and engaged Ron in a conversation about the Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw match coming up in two weeks. Harry surreptitiously scanned the Great Hall, and mentally cringed at the number of people staring at their corner of it. He carried on laughing and talking, doing his best to ignore it all. 

He got another surprise when he found Blaise Zabini waiting for him in their dorm. He greeted Harry with a confused, “You broke up with Ginny Weasley?”

Right, Blaise and Draco were gone for most of the weekend and missed the drama of the last twenty-four hours. Harry rolled his eyes. “I’m going to _adore_ having this conversation over and over again in the coming days. Yes I did. Or, actually _we_ did. Together.” He shrugged. “Things haven’t been going well and we talked about it and… we want different things. From each other. From the future.”

“Harry, that’s ridiculous. You were made for each other! You two’ve always seemed so - “

“Well we weren’t. So… it’s over now.” Harry wished he could escape on his broom again, despite the late hour. Blaise’s concern weighed heavily on him, and Harry wanted to shake it off. While forging a new path for his future, he didn’t want to line it with other people’s expectations. “Look… it’s been a long day. A long weekend. I think I just want to shower and get to bed early.”

“All right,” Blaise said, scanning Harry’s face for answers. “I have to go find Draco anyway.” He left in a hurry, slamming the door behind him.

“Whatever that was,” Harry said as he headed to the bathroom. He showered quickly, eager to be done with this whole day.

When he opened his trunk for clean pyjamas, the white box Draco gave him earlier caught his eye and made Harry blush. He locked the door to his room and spread all the pants out on his bed to look them over. There were boxer shorts, boxer briefs, and y-fronts in a variety of fabrics. Eight pairs in all. He’d been joking earlier, about remembering Draco every time he got dressed, but now wondered if that would actually be the case.

Feeling a hot rush of guilty pleasure, Harry put on the red silk boxers. Holy fuck, it was like being naked. He walked a small circle around the room and marveled at the way the silk caressed his skin. His grin soured at his transfigured pyjamas. It seemed a shame to put them on and let the itchy seams ruin the smooth feel of the pants. So he didn’t.

He stuffed the pyjamas under his pillow to worry about in the morning, then slid into bed with a delicious hiss at the feel of warm sheets on his skin. A flick of his wand unlocked the door and another few swirls warded his bed for the night. With no one to see or hear or care, Harry let his hands drift over the fabric, squeezing lightly on his thighs, and tracing over the hardening line of his cock.

The silk warmed under his fingers. When the image of a masculine hand sliding down his body came to mind, Harry let it. When the image of Blaise’s smile wandered through, Harry let it. He was a new creation. A Harry-without-Voldemort. And he could enjoy whatever the fuck he wanted while he wanked.

And if he settled in to enjoy a certain blond in snug muggle pyjamas, no one had to know that either.

\--------

Harry slept late the next morning, stumbling to the bathroom long after his dorm mates had left for breakfast. He dressed slowly, unable to avoid thinking about Draco while he slipped jeans on over his red silk boxers. Would it be awkward, working with Draco in the potions lab after wanking to him last night? It wasn’t like Draco knew about it. If Harry could keep his thoughts to himself, it would be fine.

He walked slowly to the Great Hall, tempted to skip the regular Monday Potions work. But he wanted to see Draco, see if the attraction was real or just in his head. Did he even _need_ Potions anymore? If he wasn’t going to be an Auror, he didn’t need the NEWT. But he really wanted to see Draco. What if he needed Potions for another career? Although what were the chances of that, given how much Harry disliked brewing? And… he really, _really_ wanted to see Draco.

His hesitancy nearly made him miss breakfast altogether. A quick glance at the Slytherin table let him know Theo and Draco were already in the lab. Harry piled some toast into a napkin and filled a glass with pumpkin juice, to take with him. Nearly all of Gryffindor table had emptied as students left for lessons, so Harry didn’t linger.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said as he opened the door. 

Draco and Theo looked up and noticed his bundle of food. “No food in the lab,” Draco said automatically, then went back to slicing something slimy into paper-thin strips.

“I’ll just eat it over here.” Harry sat on the table closest to the door, and coincidentally farthest from their work table. “I slept late.”

“Rough weekend, yeah?” Theo asked with a polite smile. “It’s all over the school about you and Ginny Weasley.”

Harry shrugged with a non-committal sound. 

Draco counted four long slices of - was that eels? - into his cauldron and set a timer. “Phew, okay.” He blinked at Harry and nodded. “Right. Ginny Weasley. Blaise asked me to get the scoop on everything.”

“Real smooth, Draco,” Theo said with an eye roll.

“This is delicate work! Slicing those eels was disgusting. I’m not doing it all over again because I messed it up while trying to pry information out of Harry.” He stared at the timer counting down thirty seconds, holding his glass stirring rod ready. “I don’t have time for subtlety today and I need information. Besides, Harry prefers straight forward to word games.”

“That I do. But -” He stopped when the timer dinged and Draco began to count quietly, “ _One_ , two, three, _one_ , two, three,” just like a waltz, as he stirred. He made a ‘go on’ motion with his hand, still counting. “Right, well, there’s nothing to tell. We’re different people now and we want different things so…” He shrugged. “It’s over now.”

Theo narrowed his eyes, considering Harry. “You don’t seem very broken up about losing the love of your life.”

“Maybe because she wasn’t the love of my life and that’s why we broke up. It just wasn’t working out.” His eyes darted to Draco, focused on counting his syncopated stirring, and he nearly blurted out the real reason they broke up, just to see his reaction, but chickened out in the end. “We’re still friends, though.”

“Mm, yes, I’d watch for that,” Theo said, picking up a little glass bowl containing a measure of red powder. “I doubt she’ll let you go so easily.” At Draco’s nod, Theo dumped in the powder. The potion turned blood red, as did the steam coming off it. 

“She seemed fine with things.” Harry frowned as he thought of their conversation yesterday. She understood how things were and accepted Harry’s sexuality easily. Almost too easily?

Draco snorted, and Theo rolled his eyes saying, “That girl was a veritable dragon last year. And full of ‘Harry Potter this’ and ‘Harry Potter that.’ She never spoke to us directly and we know that much. Trust me, this isn’t over.”

Harry popped his last bite of toast in his mouth and brushed the crumbs from his hands. “Well, that’s a problem for another day. What are we brewing?” 

As he approached, Draco shrieked, “Wash your hands! Can’t have _crumbs_ ruining things!”

Harry made a mocking face and went to wash up in the sink. “Glad I’m sitting this one out then.”

“It’s a topical anesthetic, for small mammals - crups and the like. It’s very delicate!”

“So I’ve gathered.” Harry sat on the table next to their workstation. “Is there anything I can do?”

Theo used a dropper to add Unicorn Hair Extract, then looked up at Harry. “This one’s not on the list, so you can just sit quietly.”

Draco added, “You had a rough weekend and missed breakfast, so we thought you weren’t coming.”

“Right, sorry I was late. I wasn’t sure about this morning. My mind’s been elsewhere lately.” Like on the curve of Draco’s wrist and how if he tilted his hand a little more, Harry could see his bracelet again.

“Is there another witch?” Theo asked.

Now it was Draco’s turn to snort. “Who’s lacking subtlety now, twit?”

“I’d hex you but don’t want to put our cauldron at risk so watch out for later.” Theo looked expectantly at Harry. “So? Another witch? We promise to only tell Blaise.”

Harry shook his head. “He is _very_ invested in this relationship. Is he sure _he_ doesn’t want to date Ginny?”

Theo scoffed. “After the way she made trouble for us last year? Not likely!”

“What sort of trouble?”

Draco added crushed lavender leaves and both boys sighed in relief. Theo set a timer and they joined Harry at the table. He had to move to a seat, so as not to tower over them, which gave him an excuse to occasionally bump feet with Draco.

“Is there another witch?” Theo asked, staring blank-faced at Harry. “Information for information.”

“No, who else would there be?” Although he hung out with the other eighth years in their lessons and common room, everyone knew Harry’s inner circle was cinched tight.

“Fair enough, we had to ask.” Theo leaned back in his chair and gestured to Draco.

Draco’s brows drew down and he seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “Last year was a wreck. We all know that, but at some point -”

“When they started hiding out in the Room of Requirement,” Theo interrupted. “In the spring.”

“Right, the rebellion targeted not just the Carrows and their minions, but all the Slytherins. This wasn’t the usual sort of ‘don’t see eye to eye,’ either. If we weren’t with them, we were against them. Pressure was high - from our parents, from the Carrows - to retaliate, to snitch on illicit activities, and just generally squash the rebellion in any way possible.” Draco looked down at his lap, twirling the blue bracelet around his wrist. “Blaise - took it very hard. Especially when Ginny Weasely seemed to target him specifically.”

“But why him?” Harry asked. What a fucked up situation, student pitted against student.

Draco didn’t answer, so Theo said, “It _wasn’t_ just him. It was all of us. A veritable minefield all over the school, set to trip up Slytherins everywhere we went.”

“Huh.” Harry shook his head with a sigh. No wonder reconciliation was proving so difficult. “Much as last year sucked for me, I’m glad I wasn’t here.”

“I think we all think that,” Theo said sadly. 

Draco stood and stretched, making something warm flutter in Harry’s belly. “Fuck them for fucking up our childhood. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” He peered into the cauldron with a pleased sound. “I think this is actually going to work on our first try!”

“Did you still want to try the fresh lavender another time?”

Draco sighed. “Maybe. Counting those stupid syncopated stirs is tedious. How do you even discover a waltzing stir is the way to go?”

Harry helped clean up, and followed the two boys to the classroom. Blaise had transfigured his armchair into a loveseat and yanked Draco down into it as soon as they entered. What happened to the delicate art of sly conversation all the Slytherins suddenly lacked? Harry smiled cheerily when Blaise turned a frown on him. Apparently he didn’t like the ‘nothing’ Draco reported.

Meanwhile, Theo’s words ran endless circles through Harry’s mind, especially when Ginny sat with him at lunch, laughing and talking as though nothing had changed between them. When she invited him for a casual fly, he hesitantly agreed. After all, they were still friends, right?

But alarm bells sent shockwaves through him when she said, “The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws have booked the pitch all week, so we might have to go a little close to curfew. But you can sneak us back in with your Cloak, right?”

Even Ron noticed something odd in that, and said, “Harry, you said you’d help Hermione and me with the clotting potion before class tomorrow. Didn’t you find some modification you were going to show us?”

“Oh, right! With the leech juice.” Harry wanted to kiss Ron for providing him with an out, but that would be gross and they were at lunch. He turned an apologetic smile on Ginny, “Maybe later this week.”

Ginny had never been a fool, and darted a suspicious glance between the two boys. “We’re still friends, Harry. We can still fly together, right?”

“Of course! Just - not today when Ron and Hermione have potions to turn in tomorrow.”

She accepted his words with a reluctant nod, and then talked about her plans to watch the Hufflepuff practice that afternoon with Paulina, the Gryffindor keeper. The conversation flowed on, but Harry knew, from Ron’s significant look, that this was only the beginning.

And indeed, throughout the week, Harry found himself dodging not just Ginny and her cunning invasions on Harry’s space and time, but also Blaise and his near desperate yearning for Harry to get back together with Ginny.

“But Harry,” Blaise said for the millionth time, “she loves you!”

“But _Blaise_ ,” Harry whined mockingly yet again, “that isn’t enough!”

“I just don’t understand! All last year…”

Blaise trailed off to gather his thoughts. Harry was once again filled with the familiar rush of envy and gratitude that he had missed the rebellion at Hogwarts.

“All last year,” Blaise started again, “she spoke of you like some kind of fairy tale hero come to life. More myth than man, really, and I thought no man could live up to such standards.” He paused and said carefully, “If you give her more time, I know she’ll learn the real you and -”

“Ginny knows the real me,” Harry interrupted. “Better than you think. And it’s not working.” Harry felt wrong-footed all over again. What did Blaise know that Harry didn’t?

“I just never imagined you’d break up with her.”

Harry’s frustration took another painful turn after a brief conversation with Seamus as they left the greenhouses after Thursday’s Herbology lesson. 

“Just tell me if there’s truth to - what you said Friday,” Seamus grumbled. “I won’t be spreading tales, after Ron threatened my life. I just need to know.”

“And if I am?” Harry said, looking around to ensure they were alone. “What then? And does it matter anyway? Ginny and I weren’t working for a lot of reasons. Sex was just one of them.” All right, so not quite the truth but so what? Pretending for the sake of a relationship would get them nowhere.

Seamus’s lip curled, “It ain’t right, and you know it.” 

What Harry knew was that his aunt and uncle had been quite vocal in their disapproval of homosexual behavior. But they hated everyone so their opinion counted for shit in his mind. The people that cared for him were all right with it, and so he could be too. 

Seamus slammed Harry’s shoulder as he walked past, “But I’ll keep your secrets anyway.”

By the time Friday rolled around, a constant ache permeated Harry’s body from all the tension he carried. He nibbled his toast at breakfast, unable to stomach anything heavier, and turned a sour frown on everyone that tried to talk to him. After the morning post delivery, conversations around the Great Hall became hushed, but rose in volume as gossip spread.

Neville thrust a _Daily Prophet_ in his face. “Front page, bottom left.”

_Harry Potter, Heartbreaker!_

Two small paragraphs underneath the headline described his recent breakup with fellow student and war veteran, Ginny Weasley.

“Oh,” Ginny exclaimed softly as she read over his shoulder. She gave him a small smile. “It seems so permanent, seeing it in print.”

The taut band of tension snapped. Harry crumpled the paper and let a surge of magic vanish it entirely. “That’s because it _is_ permanent, Ginny!” 

“No, of course, I know that! That’s not what I meant…”

“Wasn’t it?” Harry shook his head as he stood. “This’ll start them all going again. I’m skipping Transfiguration today. Let Professor Dimple know,” he said to Ron and Hermione.

“Harry wait!” Ginny called, following him out of the Great Hall.

Yeah and that was all he fucking needed, after the announcement in the paper. Gossip would run rampant now with her chasing after him, pleading for his attention. He should have known better than to run out like that. Seething with anger at himself and the world, he whirled on her in the Entrance Hall. “It’s over, Ginny! There’s no ‘us’ anymore and there won’t be ever again, all right? No amount of pining and plotting is going to change that!”

“I know! I know, all right? But - we’re still friends, Harry and - I can’t just cut you out of my life entirely!”

“But we’re not just friends, Ginny, we’re friends who used to date and we can’t go flying after curfew together. You can’t squeeze my thigh during meals or ask me on a study-date ‘as friends’. Because I see it - that longing in your eyes and - and it won’t come to anything. Because I don’t want you like you want me.”

“But you _did_ ,” she said softly. “You did at one time. Want me like that. And even if you think you might be -” she pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Maybe, if I stay close, then you’ll want me like that again.”

“I won’t,” he said, his throat thickening with the words he couldn’t say. “I won’t and you’re only hurting us both. You need to let me go.”

“We fought a war,” she said, wiping her eyes. She wrapped her arms around her waist and closed her eyes. “I lost a brother and people I cared about.” She smiled softly at Harry and shook her head. “I held on to you, to us, to get me through the worst of it and now - it hurts that it’s over. Hurts worse than anything from last year.”

Harry swallowed around a lump of guilt. “I’m sorry. To hurt you. And I want to stay friends, but - we need space. Time to separate and heal, on our own. Maybe after that… maybe then we can try for friendship again.”

She pressed her lips together and nodded. Blinking away her tears, she straightened and turned on her heel for the Great Hall. 

By dinner time, word had spread through the school. Ginny Weasley and Ritchie Coote were Gryffindor’s newest couple.

And Harry couldn’t be happier.


	6. Chapter 6

“Hermione and I are heading to lunch. Are you coming?” Ron asked, poking his head into the eighth years’ classroom.

Harry inwardly cringed. “Er… maybe?”

“You’ve got to eat and breakfast wasn’t so bad, was it?”

In addition to the usual whispering, mostly caused by Ginny eating with Ritchie at the other end of the table, a hopeful seventh year Gryffindor had approached Harry during breakfast to verify his freedom from Ginny. And see if he might want to go for a walk around the lake with her later that afternoon. He had politely declined, which she thankfully took with good grace.

He looked at the other eighth years with him - Terry, Michael, Sally-Anne, and Parvati - and blushed at their scrutiny. Harry didn’t know if he should be annoyed by yesterday’s announcement in the _Daily Prophet_ for making him the source of gossip or thankful that it at least put a real end to Ginny’s pining for him.

Probably both. “All right,” he sighed. “Maybe something dramatic will happen and they’ll all stop talking about me.”

“It’s still new, and bigger now that Ginny’s already dating someone else,” Parvati said. “I hate to tell you there’s bound to be a long line of girls hoping you’ll pick them next.”

“And it’ll only get worse,” Sally-Anne agreed, “the longer you wait and the more girls you turn down.”

“It’d help if you’d date someone else, too. They’d back off then.”

“It’s too soon for someone else,” Harry said evasively, packing up his bag. Ron followed him to his room. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do.”

“All in good time,” Ron said, slapping Harry on the back. “No need to rush into anything just because she’s dating again.”

“She’s just proving a point. It probably doesn’t mean anything.” Harry didn’t know why he sounded so bitter. Because he _wanted_ Ginny to date someone else. Even if Ritchie was a lark, it at least separated her from Harry and let them both work on putting their lives back together, apart from one another. 

Secretly, he worried he might be jealous of her. Because she could pick up a new bloke easily and at any time, whereas Harry…

He opened the door to his dorm and his breath left in a whoosh at finding Blaise admiring himself in front of a tall mirror. “Blaise! What are you wearing?” 

“A muggle suit,” he said, turning side to side to show it off. His serious face brought to mind the cold, aloof Blaise he had been at the beginning of term. Proximity and time had changed them in ways Harry hadn’t anticipated. Now he admired the way the dark grey suit fitted Blaise to perfection, drawing the eye to his broad chest and narrow hips. But it was the cobalt blue shirt complimenting his deep brown skin that had Harry smiling like a loon. “Muggle clothing is in this season,” Blaise said by way of explanation.

“That blue looks great on you!” Now that he could recognise it, the quick beat of his heart and light breathlessness were definitely attraction and not an appreciation for purebloods learning to love muggle attire. 

Blaise examined his reflection. “You think? It’s not too bright?”

“No,” Harry said with a wide smile, trying to rein in the giddy laughter trying to break free. “You look like something out of a magazine.” Next to him, Ron choked on air, and Harry had to smack him on the back to calm him down. “Are you going to lunch like that?”

“I’m meeting my mother in Hogsmeade.” He smoothed down the line of his suit jacket one last time and turned to them with a small smile. “We’ll be missing each other for the Christmas holiday while she’s in Italy with,” he rolled his eyes, “her husband Clarence.”

“I see, well… Have fun.” Harry dropped his bag on his trunk, sneaking one last peek before Blaise put on his thick, woollen trench coat.

“Undoubtedly.” Blaise waved goodbye and closed the door behind him.

Harry didn’t know what to make of the odd grin Ron gave him. “It’s a little weird, seeing it in action. Gotta say, not very smooth.”

“Only because you know more about me than he does,” Harry said with a blush. “I didn’t know Blaise - looked like that under his robes.” Although he’d felt it that night he’d attacked Blaise. Adrenaline and fear had masked what his body had tried to tell him then. What an idiot he’d been.

Ron faked gagging. “Please don’t describe Blaise Zabini to me.”

Harry hesitated on his way to the bathroom. “Is it really weird?”

“No, mate, it’s fine. Just takes getting used to.”

They found Hermione just leaving the common room, talking with Millicent Bullstrode and Tracey Davis. Davis took Bulstrode by the hand and led her to her dorm.

Hermione smiled when she saw Ron, giving him a hug and a quick peck on the cheek. “Harry, did you get a lot of work done this morning?”

“Yeah, I didn’t realise how far behind I was. Distracted lately.” He shrugged sheepishly.

“I’m getting behind too, but it’s worth it to help Millie. She’s made a lot of good strides this week.” 

As soon as they walked into the Great Hall, Harry was hailed by a group of girls in the middle of the Gryffindor table. They parted to make a space for him, but there was no way in hell he’d be joining them.

He waved awkwardly and shook his head, pointing to his regular seat with the other eighth years. “Bloody hell,” he muttered, taking the seat next to Dean. “This is going to get annoying.”

“You need a new girlfriend,” Dean said.

Harry rolled his eyes. “It’s been five minutes since I broke up with Ginny. Surely I can be a free man for a while.”

“You’re too fit, popular, and famous to be alone.”

“You think I’m fit?” Harry asked with a wink.

Dean shook his head. “Only relaying what I’ve heard. I’ve lived with you too long to believe the hype.”

“Whatever,” Harry said, pouring himself a glass of apple juice. “I’m not looking for another relationship right now. One of the reasons we broke up is I want to learn more about myself. And I’m not going to be able to do that attached to some other girl so… they’re all getting a no.”

“More for the rest of us.” Dean waggled his eyebrows and tucked into his lunch.

Harry knew staying single would only make him a target of scrutiny. Who was he kidding? He would always be a target for scrutiny, no matter if he had a love interest or not. And how long did he think he could reasonably stay single? The other eighth years were pairing off quickly, and soon Harry would be the only one without someone.

\--------

No less than six girls invited Harry to sit with them for the Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw Quidditch game the following Saturday. Where were all these witches when he needed a date to the Yule Ball all those years ago? He shook them all off as politely as possible, but inwardly growled at their tenacity.

He enjoyed the game from the Gryffindor stands, surrounded by cheering Gryffindors waving flags that changed from blue to yellow and back as the game progressed. The Gryffindor Quidditch team all sat together, six rows down from Harry, Ron, and Hermione. This gave Harry a clear view of Ginny and Ritchie, sitting side by side, holding hands and cheering together. They argued playfully and although he couldn’t hear them, he imagined their conversation full of Quidditch trivia and commentary on the teams’ techniques. 

Therefore, it took Harry by surprise to learn they broke up that afternoon.

“Eight days,” Lavender said, sitting on Seamus’s lap in the common room. “That’s longer than I thought they’d last.”

“Rebound Ritchie strikes again,” Parvati nodded in agreement.

Michael Corner scoffed. “That is a shit nickname. Who wants to be the rebound guy all the time?”

“Ritchie does,” Parvati said. “He dates around a lot, rarely for more than three weeks, and always a girl getting out of a serious relationship.”

“Wow, that is… what’s the word I’m looking for?”

“Slutty?”

“Boy-whore?”

“Fuck off, all of you, that’s my sister’s boyfriend you’re talking about!” Ron said with mildly confused aggression.

Lavender shrugged, completely unapologetic. “It’s her _ex_ we’re talking about and we’re not saying he sleeps with _everyone_ he’s dating, just that he dates around a lot.”

Mandy yelled from the hallway, “Lav! Where are you? Susan’s ready for you!”

“Oh, I’m coming!” she said, squirming off Seamus’s lap. 

“Not yet, you aren’t,” Seamus laughed, tickling her before she could get up.

“Ha! You wish!” Lavender giggled. She summoned a throw pillow from the floor and smacked it into Seamus’s lap as she stood. 

Parvati apologised as she followed Lavender out, “Sorry, Susan’s got a date tonight. Wish us luck!” she laughed, crossing her fingers at them.

“I think I’m in love,” Seamus said to the boys sitting by the fire. “Lavender’s loads more fun these days, without Death Eaters hanging over us.”

“Too bad about the scars on her face, though,” Justin said. “She used to be so pretty.”

Seamus shook his head. “She fought a fucking werewolf, dipshit. That’s badass. Besides, I’ve got this going on,” he lifted his shirt and leaned to the right to show off a large blast-pattern scar across most of his left side, “so can’t say much about scarring.”

“It’s good of you to look past the out-”

“And,” Seamus continued, “it’s her tits I really love anyway.” 

“Nevermind.”

“No one wants to hear about Lavender’s tits,” Michael said. “It’s Parvati I want to know about. Is she seeing anyone?”

“Not that I’ve heard.” Seamus shrugged, “I can ask Lavender.”

“She didn’t date much last year,” Michael said, nodding at Terry and Ollie dropping in to join them. “We’re talking about Parvati. We had a little moment in Astronomy the other night… and I was thinking of asking her out next Saturday, when the school’s got a Hogsmeade weekend.”

“You want to go when it’s full of younger years?”

“Yeah, gives us an excuse to walk around and comment on everyone. If the place is a ghost town, it’s harder to make conversation.”

“You’re overthinking it,” Terry said. “Sally-Anne heard from Susan, who heard from Lavender, that Parvati was checking you out during Defence this week.”

“No she wasn’t. Was she?”

“Yeah that cascading jinx was a sweet trick.”

“You don’t think it’ll be weird, asking her out after me and Padma…”

“After your long detention last year?” Ollie finished.

Michael bit at his fingernail. “Yeah, I mean… that’d be weird, right? She probably told Parvati all about it and…”

Harry mentally sighed at yet another thing that happened last year that he didn’t know about. And then he was further distracted by Blaise’s arrival, crossing to the Slytherin fireplace. He’d changed out of his fitted suit into a pair of loose jeans and a snug t-shirt, and fucking hell did he look even hotter than he had before. 

“Hey!” Terry said, smacking Michael on the arm and startling Harry at the same time. “That shit is over. Stop thinking about it.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “It’s fine. I’m fine.” His eyes glazed over as he stared off into nothing. “But I’m getting tired, and I think I want to -”

“No,” Terry interrupted. “You’re going off to mope and ride your merry-go-round of sorrow. I won’t allow it. We’re going to do something fun.” He snapped his fingers at the group. “Something fun. Ideas.”

Harry’s gaze drifted back to Blaise, talking with Daphne Greengrass and smiling widely as he ran a hand down his torso, clearly talking about his new clothes. Daphne’s laugh caused a sharp stab of jealousy in Harry.

Ollie sat up straight, bumping Harry in his excitement. “Let’s go flying!”

Harry’s interest was piqued by that, but only for as long as it took for Draco to come in and call out to Blaise, “I found him.” And damn, if he wasn’t wearing the pyjamas Harry loved best.

Justin scrunched up his face. “Now? It’s dark outside. And cold. And nearly curfew.”

“Stop being a killjoy. It’ll be fun. Maybe we can get enough for night Quidditch.”

Thankfully Harry sat on the floor and could bring his knees up to hide his body’s growing interest in the green and grey plaid flannel pyjama bottoms. Who the fuck got hard over flannel pyjamas? But, damn, the way the henley hugged Draco and the grey set off his eyes. How did Harry ever imagine this feeling came from the novelty of Draco Malfoy in muggle clothes?

“Harry’ll fly - won’t you?”

Harry ran through a thousand excuses for one that didn’t sound like he needed to hide the bulge in his jeans and came up blank. “Absolutely!”

Michael agreed reluctantly, but then smiled when Terry ruffled his hair and said, “It’ll be good for you.”

The boys started to scatter, looking for warm clothes, shoes, and brooms. Harry used the distraction to glamour himself until he could get his raging hormones under control. Kevin was in Hogsmeade, of course, and Anthony Goldstein was on orders to rest after an allergic reaction to the arnica he harvested for Herbology. Neville tried to get out of it too, but the other Gryffindor boys wouldn’t hear of it.

“I can ask the Slytherins, too,” Harry said, leaving for his room.

“Fuck that,” Seamus said. “We’ve got enough. With Nev, that’s five to a team if Ernie’s playing. Plenty enough for a game.”

“Yeah,” Dean said hesitantly, “erm… maybe next time?”

“I’m getting my broom,” Harry said without acknowledging their objections. 

In his room, the three Slytherin boys had textbooks spread over Blaise’s and Kevin’s beds. “What about Kerner’s constant?” Blaise was saying. “You can’t just drop it to make your formula work.” He smiled at Harry, “Hey, Harry.”

“Hey, we’re putting together a night time Quidditch game. Any of you want to join?”

The three boys looked at each other but then Blaise said, “Thanks, but we’ve got Arithmancy to work on so… maybe next time.”

“Always next time,” Harry mumbled under his breath as he searched his trunk for his flying goggles. He slammed the lid shut and picked up his broom. “Well, have fun with - all that.” He didn’t know if it was his imagination, but he thought maybe Draco’s eyes lingered on his broom before resuming his scribbling.

A raucous group of boys had gathered in the corridor, and Harry heard someone say, “Ernie’s a no-go. Got a thing with Lisa tonight.”

Amidst the rising ‘ooh’, Harry heard, “That’s all right, four on five’ll be fine.”

Harry poked his head back into his room. “We’re one short,” he told the three boys. “Last call.”

They stared at him in silence for three seconds. Harry sighed in defeat but before he could leave, Draco said, “I’ll go.”

“Really?” Harry asked, his heart rate rising. He smiled widely, “Brilliant, yeah. Let’s go.”

Blaise shared an incredulous look with Theo, then said to Draco, “You’re going?”

“Yeah, fuck Arithmancy. It’s the weekend.” Draco plucked at his pyjama bottoms. “I need to change.”

“Yeah, go. Quick.” Harry grinned and turned to the boys in the corridor. “Draco’s going to fly. That’s five on five.”

The chatter died down as Draco hurried past with a nervous smile.

“You invited Malfoy?”

Harry shrugged, “Yeah, and he brings us up to ten. He can be on my team.” He made eye contact with Ron, who nodded. “Me, Ron, Draco. Who else?”

The awkward pause lengthened until Dean broke it with a sigh. “I guess I will.” He nudged Ollie next to him. Ollie looked around quickly, then dropped his eyes to the ground with a quiet, “I guess me too, then.”

“Great,” Harry said with a wide smile. “Seamus, Neville, Justin, Terry, and Michael on the other team.” The door opened and all heads turned to see Draco emerge in jeans and an Aran cabled jumper, with a broom over his shoulder. Harry’s belly swooped at the sight. “Perfect timing. Let’s go.”

The group headed down the stairs, with Seamus’s team in the lead, Ron, Dean, and Ollie in the middle, and Harry and Draco bringing up the rear. Draco leaned in to whisper to Harry, “Is it all right?”

“It will be.” Harry smiled with more confidence than he felt, and warmed when Draco returned the smile.

“I haven’t played Quidditch in ages. This’ll be fun. Even if they hate me.”

Harry wanted to say they didn’t hate him, but Draco would know it for a lie. As soon as they left the castle, the boys mounted their brooms and flew down to the pitch. Seamus and Neville fetched the box of practice balls, and Terry charmed their shirts with a soft glowing red or blue. While the teams assigned positions, there was a brief debate on whether the snitch should glow, along with the bludgers and quaffle. A quick game of paper, rock, scissors decided it as a yes.

“It’ll be too easy to find,” Seamus whined.

“It’s after curfew already,” Justin argued back. “We can’t be out here all night anyway.”

Michael growled loudly, “Enough! It’s decided and it’s glowing. Let’s get playing. Are we ready?” Without waiting for an affirmative, he charmed the balls into the air, and the ten boys followed.

For the first little while, the quaffle flew between the four chasers, while Harry circled the pitch a few broom lengths behind Terry, searching for the snitch. Every now and again he’d see the tiny glow, but Harry ignored it to let everyone have a chance to get comfortable in their positions and enjoy the night fly.

It took Harry another twenty minutes to become aware of the way Seamus specifically targeted Draco with the bludger. Dean began to shadow Draco, driving the bludger away, but that made it difficult for Draco to handle the quaffle at all. 

When the bludger clipped Draco’s broom, sending him spiralling for a few seconds, Ron sent up white sparks from his wand to call a time-out. 

“Seamus is such a whiny little bitch. We have to switch,” Ron said to Draco. “Think you can play keeper?”

Draco wiped sweat from his eyes. “Think it’ll help?”

“I fucking hope so,” Ron said, sneering at the other end of the field where the red team had congregated.

“I’m sorry,” Harry felt compelled to say. He was the one that got Draco into this in the first place.

But Draco gave him a small smile. “Don’t be. I’ve had worse.” He fiddled with his gloves. “Nothing like Death Eaters threatening your life over breakfast to put things in perspective.” He shook himself and sat up straighter on his broom. “It won’t help. He’ll just target me where I can’t get away. And if he needs this… so be it. I made my bed and all that.”

“You can’t seriously mean to leave yourself as a target…” Ollie said. “Maybe we should just call this all off.”

“And let him think we’ve run scared?” Ron asked.

“You could play beater,” Dean said to Draco, offering him the bat. “At least then you can aim the bludger back at him.”

“I think that’ll only make him worse,” Draco said with a casual shrug. “We just have to hang on a little longer. I’ll do my best to avoid him. It’s on you, Rivers, to score. Keep sharp, Weasley.” He smiled at Harry, “Best get on finding that snitch fast. Let’s fly.”

And of course now that Harry really wanted it, the tiny glowing snitch was nowhere to be found. Seamus continued to target Draco, but had a harder time of it when Draco flew slow circles around Neville guarding the red team’s hoops. Michael and Justin had no trouble keeping the quaffle from Ollie, but couldn’t manage to score against Ron.

The game narrowed to the red side of the pitch when Ollie finally made a break for their hoops with the quaffle in hand. Justin and Michael followed closely, but couldn’t reach the ball. Terry circled above, not really looking for the snitch anymore, but keeping a close eye on everyone. 

Seeing his chance at last, Seamus smacked the bludger at Draco again, just out of reach of Dean’s bat. Draco made a steep dive at the last second, at the same time Ollie shot the quaffle at the left hand hoop. Neville’s broom shot up, trying to block the quaffle, not seeing the bludger until it was too late.

“Neville!” Harry shouted, too far away to do anything but watch as the bludger made contact with Neville’s broom.

The impact knocked him into a spiral that broke when he hit the left hoop and Neville lost his grip on his broom with a pained shriek. Dean and Seamus both dived to try and catch him, but Draco pulled his wand and shot a spell at Neville, slowing his fall. He landed with a soft bounce, groaning and coughing.

“Neville, are you all right? Can you move?”

The boys landed in a tight circle, crowding close as Neville coughed and tried to sit up.

“Back up!” Terry yelled. “Get back, give him some air.” He made a large circle with his wand that expanded around Neville and forced everyone back a few feet. “Don’t move, Neville.”

“Shit! Fuck! Are you all right, Nev?”

“I’m - fine -” Neville gasped, but broke off with a weak cough.

Terry ran a light hand down Neville’s torso. “Does this hurt?” Neville nodded and moaned lightly, his eyes scrunched up. “Damn, you might’ve cracked some ribs. We’ll get you up to Madam Pomfrey. She’ll fix you up. Okay?”

“Can’t,” Neville groaned. “So much trouble.”

“It was an accident. It’ll be fine.”

Neville shook his head. “Bind it. Tight. Hannah can - look at it when we get back.” He groaned again, pressing a hand to his chest.

“Damn it, Nev, you know she isn’t far enough along in her training.”

“I can help him.”

The noise cut off like a silencing charm and nine pairs of eyes swiveled to Draco. He lifted his chin and wiggled his wand. “I can help him,” he repeated.

“Fuck off, Death Eater,” Seamus scowled. “He doesn’t want your help.”

Draco held his ground. “And if the transport makes him worse? It’s a long way to the hospital wing.”

“It’s internal,” Terry said over the murmurs of the other boys. “Episkey isn’t enough.”

“I know.” Draco held Terry’s eye for a tense moment.

It was Neville’s faint voice that broke it. “Just - let him… let him in.” He took a shuddering breath. “Fuck my -” he broke off gasping for air.

The invisible circle they all leaned on broke in front of Draco and he stumbled inside it, next to Terry. 

Over outraged yelling, Terry said, “If you make it worse, you’ll regret it.”

Draco took a deep breath and moved his wand in two tight circles over Neville’s torso. On the third pass, Neville gasped and said, “Fu-u-u-u-u-uck,” on a slow exhale. He took several deep breaths and sat up with Terry’s help.

“Neville! You’re all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He stretched to the left and right. “Better than,” he looked at Draco for a long moment. “What was that?”

“Just a healing spell. We’re learning them in Charms.”

Terry let his barrier drop and the boys crowded close to help Neville to his feet and assure themselves he was really okay.

“I didn’t think anyone had got that far yet. Even Hannah and Susan training with Madam Pomfrey,” Neville said.

Draco kept his gaze steady on Neville, once again taking on the cold, hard facade he’d carried before the war. “Even after last year?”

“We had Madam Pomfrey for serious things.” Neville gave him a grim smile. “And the rest were badges of honour.”

Draco laughed bitterly, “Ah, Gryffindors…”

Neville’s chin came up, “Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws too.”

“Of course. But we Slytherins don’t play martyr so well.”

A surge amongst the boys nearly erupted, but Neville pushed back on the boys behind him. Harry held his breath, unsure of what to say to ease the mounting tension. He felt Ron’s hand on his wrist, but didn’t know if that was to encourage or prevent his intervention.

Finally Neville summoned his broom and said, “Someone call in the snitch. Game’s over. We should get back before we’re caught out after curfew.” 

Unfortunately, the boys met a disgruntled Headmistress when they got back to the school’s large doors. Fucking hell, Harry thought, it would be detention for sure.

“Curfew has long since passed, gentlemen,” McGonagall said, frowning at Neville, leading the crowd.

Neville smiled, trying to soften her, “Sorry, Professor. We needed a little bit of cheer and lost track of time over a friendly game of Quidditch.”

Her brows drew down. “These rules are in place for a reason. And you all agreed to abide by them…” She eyed the entire group with a stern frown, but her eyes widened a fraction when they passed over Draco. “A friendly game of Quidditch, you say?” she asked hesitantly.

“Yes, Headmistress,” Draco said, keeping hold of her gaze. “Would you believe Harry couldn’t find the snitch?” He laughed lightly. “A _glowing_ snitch?” 

“No,” she said crisply, crossing her arms. “I wouldn’t.” But Harry could see that their ‘friendly game’ including Draco had changed their situation for the better. No one loved inter-house unity, specifically amongst the eighth years, like their Headmistress.

And he knew Neville saw it too when he said, “Eh, our team didn’t fare any better.” He turned a lopsided grin on Terry. “Terry must’ve had his head on his runes.”

“Transfiguration, more like,” Ron said, with a wink to their former Transfiguration teacher. Dean tried to smother a laugh, but that only made it worse. And spread. Next to him, Ollie grinned and when the two of them made eye contact, the sniggering increased.

“Well,” Professor McGonagall said slowly. “I suppose...” she crossed her arms, tucking her hands into the opposite sleeves. “I understand the pitch has been quite busy with Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw preparing for today’s match. It must have been difficult for you to find the time. But it does get dark early these days, perhaps next time you could have an after dinner match instead. _Before_ curfew.” They mumbled their apologies and agreement. “Very well. Consider this a warning. Off to bed with you then.”

A brisk walk soon snowballed into a mad dash up the staircase before she changed her mind and had them all in detention. Laughing over the near miss, they broke off in small groups for their rooms, Ollie and Dean first with smiles and slaps on the back for Draco, then Harry at the next door. He paused, to see if the other boys acknowledged Draco too. 

At the last second, before Neville led Justin and Michael into the next room without a word, Harry called loudly, “Thanks Draco. For -” He didn’t want to mention Neville, in case an eavesdropper got word back to Headmistress McGonagall about the injury and they all got into real trouble. “For getting us out of detention.”

Neville paused on the threshold of his room. He looked at Harry for a long moment then sighed down at his feet. “And for the healing spell. We’d have caught shit for sure if we came back late _and_ injured.” Before Draco could even open his mouth to reply, Neville disappeared into his room. Justin and Michael quickly followed, closing the door behind them. 

Seamus mumbled something under his breath and kicked his door open. Terry eyed Draco, Harry, and Ron, but left without a word.

“Well, that went _very_ well, I think,” Ron said, patting Draco on the back. “Can’t wait to see Hermione’s face when she hears all about it in the morning. ‘Night Harry.” He nodded at the two of them and went to his room, closing the door behind them to give them a moment of privacy.

Draco smiled, and Harry blurted out, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Draco said. “It was fun. Parts of it were fun. But… I’ll probably sit the next one out.”

Harry laughed lightly. “Maybe I’ll join you. Stage our own little protest.”

Draco smiled at his feet. “Goodnight, Harry.”

“Goodnight.” 

Blaise eyed Harry with relief when he came in their room. A quick glance showed Ernie hadn’t returned from his date with Lisa. “How was it?” Blaise asked, tossing his book to the side. “Everyone all right?’

“It went… fine, I guess?” Harry kicked off his trainers and sat on his trunk. “Seamus was a prick the whole time, targeting Draco with the bludger. But it got Neville in the end. Knocked him into the goal posts, and cracked his ribs. But Draco healed him.”

“Mm, Draco’s good with broken bones.”

“Because of last year,” Harry nodded in agreement, although he knew so little about what had happened at school last year. Someone should write a book about it.

Blaise scoffed, “Even before that. His dad didn’t carry that cane for decoration, you know. Longbottom’s all right?”

“Yeah, fine,” Harry said faintly, reeling from the odd, throwaway comment. Who did Lucius Malfoy attack with his cane? Muggles? House Elves? Draco? He stood to pull his pyjamas from his trunk. “We almost got in trouble with McGonagall for missing curfew but she let us go with a warning after we emphasised a little inter-house unity.”

“Smooth.” Blaise leaned back on his headboard, picking up his book but not opening it. “Think it’ll be all right?”

Harry paused before entering the bathroom. “Neville’s one step closer.” He gave Blaise a small smile. “We’ll get there soon.”

\--------

Harry turned down invitations from four different girls to go to Hogsmeade the following weekend. After promising to meet Ron and Hermione for lunch, Harry went with Dean and Ollie to Spintwitches Sporting Needs to see about getting the school brooms fixed.

“Be right there!” called a familiar voice from the back room. Madam Hooch came out with a smile that widened when she saw Harry. “Mr Potter! How _are_ you?” 

“I’m doing well. And you?” he asked, glancing around the sparse shop with a few brooms hanging on the walls.

Madam Hooch laughed, “Oh, can’t complain.” She pointed at his broom bag. “You’ve brought something for me to fix?”

Ollie knelt next to him and pulled a broom from the bag. “My mum sent me my broom and I noticed last week that it’s not responding like it used to. Like it’s sluggish.” He ran his hand over the tips of the bristles. “These have always been bent like this so I don’t think it’s that.”

“Hmm… could be it just needs a little boost to the spell work. I can take a look. Let you know next week.”

“Yeah, that’d be great.” Ollie wrote his name on a little card that Madam Hooch attached to his broom.

“Anything else in that bag?” she asked Harry.

“Er, yeah, I’ve brought some of the school brooms?”

Madam Hooch laughed. “Oh Harry, I’ve done about all I can manage with those brooms over the years! What they need is to be stripped completely and reworked and - I’m sorry but I just don’t have that in me anymore.” She ran a hand down one of the old, worn brooms. “My daughter might’ve been able to manage but… she can’t help anymore.”

Her eyes flickered to a large photo of a smiling young woman on a broom. Next to the photo sat a bouquet of dried flowers and a small lit candle. Harry swallowed the lump that rose in his throat and nodded. “I see…”

“Those brooms - they haven’t been replaced in years,” Madam Hooch continued, “but I’ve done what I can. And really it’s just those few weeks the first years have flying lessons. After that, they either don’t like flying or they get their own brooms. So no one’s made it much of a priority.”

“Well I’ve flown on these a few times and now _I’m_ making it a priority.” Harry scoffed, “What about those kids that can’t afford brooms? And do we really want first years, some of whom have never been on a broom before, on these that aren’t very responsive?”

Madam Hooch laid out all four brooms on her counter. “I’ll see what I can do but… honestly, you’d be better off asking the Headmistress for funds to replace them. We’ve got a few used brooms for sale, and Quality Quidditch Supplies always has some.”

“Yeah all right. I can take a look over the Christmas holiday.”

“Very good. Why don’t you boys come back next week? Hopefully I’ll have good news for both of you.”

“Thank you, Madam Hooch.”

Dean and Ollie said goodbye to Harry, who reluctantly made his way back to the hair salon.

“Mr Potter, you’re back!” said the excited witch that styled his hair last time. “Have a seat and I’ll be with you shortly.” She gave him a wave then turned her attention to the young witch in her chair with little paper wraps all over her head.

Under the watchful eye of everyone in the salon, Harry sat in a corner and grabbed a random magazine to hide his face. Another issue of _Witch Weekly_ , featuring a centrefold spread of some Wrock band Harry had never heard of.

But he was an instant fan after seeing the photo spread. His eye immediately caught on the tight red t-shirt and red leather trousers worn by the man in the centre. The loose, open outer robe in jet black hanging off his shoulders and his messy hair made him look like he rolled out of someone else’s bed and needed to dress in a hurry.

Harry cast a subtle notice-me-not charm and watched the eyes of the other customers slide away from his corner of the room. He didn’t need anyone watching him ogle the members of - he flipped back a page - Red Sun at Night, his new favourite band.

Now that he could look his fill on the page, Harry turned his attention to the other two band members. On the right, a man with a guitar scowled at the camera. His red, sleeveless under-robe was sheer enough to show off his skin tight muggle jeans. And was that - holy fucking hell, _yes_ , his _nipples_ were _pierced_ with small black rings. 

On the left, the drummer wore nothing but the loose trousers wizards occasionally wore under their robes. The front laces were a blood red that matched the large round pendant hanging in the centre of his chest, and the dyed tips of his spiky black hair. He had one drumstick sticking out of the top of his trousers, while the other he clenched in his teeth.

The young witch getting her hair styled squealed loudly, drawing everyone’s attention. The paper wraps had disappeared and now her blonde hair was streaked with cyan stripes. Harry knew he’d be called up soon, and didn’t want to let go of his magazine. Hoping the notice-me-not would hold well enough, Harry took a deep breath to focus his magic and in one fell swoop managed to duplicate and shrink the centrefold pages.

Unfortunately he dropped the original magazine and his notice-me-not charm in the process so that everyone saw him scramble for magazine as he stuffed the small pages in his pocket. He stood and smiled awkwardly at the other people in the shop. 

“Mr Potter, come have a seat!” The stylist waved her wand and neatened her station from the previous styling, and turned the seat to welcome him. 

“You can just call me Harry,” he said, sitting in the chair with a nervous smile.

“Harry it is. I’m Marjorie. What are we doing today? Just a trim?” Her fingernails scraped his scalp lightly as she combed through the strands.

“Erm… actually, I’m liking it a little longer here in front? But it’s starting to catch on my collar and that’s - can you trim that up?”

“Of course we can. At this length, though, it won’t style the same.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve not been doing that as much lately. Kind of a hassle, I guess. And… sometimes people…” he looked at the other customers in the mirror and then at Marjorie. “People like to look at my scar.” He resisted the urge to rub at his forehead, knowing it would only make them look all the harder.

“Mm, right,” she said with a small smile. “It takes getting used to, having a celebrity in town.” She squeezed his shoulders and her smile widened, “How about we leave the length, maybe drape it across your forehead like this… If you don’t want to put a product in your hair every day, I can give you a conditioner that’ll relax the curls.”

“Yeah, that’d be great.” Harry sat back while she got to work trimming the curls around his ear. “Could we maybe -” A fleeting thought he might like color in his hair came and went. He didn’t want to think about the problems that might cause. “Actually, never mind.”

“What is it?” Marjorie sprayed his hair with a light mist from her wand. 

Harry wished away the blush of his cheeks. “No, it’s stupid. I was just thinking about the blue stripes that other witch had. And that band, with the red hair.”

Marjorie grinned at him in the mirror. “Red Sun? Merlin, I would drop my boyfriend in a heartbeat if Liam Hayes walked in here and told me to run away with him!” She ran her fingers through his hair again. “I don’t know about dying the tips of your hair with this length but we could do a stripe. Gryffindor red?”

“No, I couldn’t… there’s the school dress code -”

“The dress code doesn’t say anything about hair. I’ve dyed hair for loads of students.”

“Oh.” Harry pressed his lips together in thought, but then shook his head. “No, it’s too - too bold? I don't know. Everyone will stare and I hate that.”

“They’re already staring, yeah? Might as well be for something you like, right?”

Harry’s heart fluttered in excitement and he sat up straighter in the chair. “You think?”

“Absolutely! Be bold, daring! Let them know you don’t care if they stare.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, his lips quirking up in a grin. “Yeah, all right.”

“So, red?”

He scrunched up his nose. “I’m not ready for something so… flashy.”

“Oh! I know! Let’s do purple. A dark purple that _almost_ blends with your hair. Make them wonder if they’re seeing what they think they’re seeing. Here, in the under layers.”

Harry shrugged, “I trust your judgement.”

“Excellent,” Marjorie grinned with a gleam in her eye. A swirl of her wand had all of Harry’s wet hair standing on end. Carefully she wound a stream of magic through it, followed by the paper wraps he’d seen her use on the other witch. “Have you gotten Red Sun’s new album yet? I got a copy yesterday and,” she sighed, “I swear I cried over ‘Tomorrow without yesterday.’”

“Er…” Harry didn’t want to admit he’d never even heard of them until minutes ago. “Not yet.”

“Well, the Maestro still has a few copies. You should get them before the younger years arrive and snatch them all up.”

By the time she finished working on Harry, he knew Red Sun at Night’s birthdays, favourite foods, the time they showed up unannounced at Beauxbatons for Blade’s niece’s birthday, how Blade got the nickname and why he only uses that anymore, and the whispered rumours that Liam Hayes might be bi.

“Finished,” she said, running her fingers through the straightened hair one more time. Shades of purple so dark they were nearly black shimmered through the black strands. 

“Perfect,” Harry said with a grin. He shook his hair to watch the colour catch the light.

His next stop had to be Maestro’s Musical Shop. Harry hadn’t been inside before, although he’d seen it on previous trips to Hogsmeade. He’d always assumed they sold old fashioned instruments or record players and the like. But inside were posters for various bands, nearly all of which moved, metal and leather jewellry, boxes of silvery tablets that would fit comfortably in his palm, and yes, some instruments as well. Guitars in various sizes hung from the wall behind the counter.

“Welcome! Let me know if the Maestro can help you!” said a middle-aged wizard with a pierced eyebrow and long brown hair in a braid over his shoulder. Like the lead singer from the magazine, he wore traditional outer robes open over muggle clothes - jeans and a t-shirt that said, ‘sex & candy’.

“Yeah, actually you can. I’m looking for Red Sun at -”

“Right over here!” the man grinned, pointing to a small display in the corner that Harry hadn’t noticed right away. “You’re in luck. There are only a few copies of ‘Left to Die’ here, although I should be getting another delivery on Wednesday. I’ve also got their other album, ‘Explode Me’ if you’re new to the band.”

He handed Harry two metal tablets. One side had the title of the album and a small picture of the band, while the other had a list of songs. “Erm, I don’t have any way of playing these?” He flipped them in his hands, curious about the musical technology the wizarding world used.

“Well I have a few players here, if you want to limit your use of magic? They’re mostly for kids that can’t use their own magic yet. But you can just tap it like this with a sonorous…”

The man ran through a few quick spells, showing Harry how to raise and lower the volume, and also limit the scope of the sound so everyone around him didn’t have to listen to it too. When Harry asked for other recommendations, the man gave him two other tablets - one of a magical band and one of a muggle band - and told him to come back for others if he liked what he heard.

“If you’ve got some muggle CDs or tapes you’d like to convert, I’ve got equipment for that. Some of the muggleborns and halfbloods get annoyed when their players fritz at the castle.”

“Thanks,” Harry said politely, “I’ll keep that in mind.” He wasn’t about to admit these four albums were the sum total of his music collection. As the man packed up his purchases, Harry’s eye caught on some leather bracelets by the register. Feeling that wild flutter inside, he slipped one on and admired the look. On a whim, he said, “Can you add this too?”

“No problem. That’ll be eighteen sickles and six knuts.”

Harry walked with a spring in his step to the Three Broomsticks. Ron and Hermione were both already there and did a double take at his hair.

“Harry, is your - hair - purple?” Hermione asked. She leaned from one side to the other. “Or am I seeing things in this light?”

“No, it’s got purple in it,” he said with a smile, ruffling his hair. He shrugged, “Something different, you know?”

“That’s - very different,” she said with a laugh.

Ron tilted his head one way then the other too. “It’s almost like you can’t see it sometimes.”

“I wanted something bold yet subtle and this is what Marjorie came up with. She said it would last about three months, but if I didn’t like it she could remove it easily enough.”

“Huh,” Ron said. “Well, not the best way to avoid the stares but if you like it…”

“They’re going to stare anyway,” Harry said with a look around at the patrons that were indeed side-eyeing him. “Might as well have something fun to look at.”

When Harry reached for the ketchup for his chips, and the sleeve of his flannel shirt rode up a little, no one commented on the braided leather bracelet he wore. Because they didn’t notice? Or they did but didn’t care? It didn’t matter, because he liked it, and he wasn’t going to let public opinion shame him into taking it off anyway.

On the walk back to school, Hermione threaded her arm through Ron’s and smiled at Harry. “You look good, Harry. Better than you have in a while.”

“I feel good,” he said with a deep breath of cold autumn air. “Free. For the first time in a long time.”

Not just free of the war, which had taken long hours of late-night talks and afternoon flights, but free of Ginny as well. In the short time they’d been apart, Harry could look back a little more objectively and see how his failure to meet her expectations had weighed him down all the time. But now, he could be anything he wanted. 

And when the time was right, he would find someone that could appreciate the new him.


	7. Chapter 7

Dying his hair had been a marvelous idea. Harry didn’t mind the staring, now that he could imagine it was the purple that drew eyes instead of the scar on his forehead. Still worried about breaking a school rule, Harry asked Professor McGonagall about it and she gave him a stern look, saying they didn’t have a need to regulate hairstyles since 1816 when young witches wore puffskeins in their elaborate piles of braids.

Whispers still followed him wherever he went, and by Tuesday, several older students had charmed their hair in different colours. The other Gryffindor boys teased Harry about being a trendsetter that evening during their late night poker game.

“I'm out,” Neville said, tossing his cards onto the bed and ruffling his short blond hair. “Hannah says I should get a black streak so I can be an honorary Hufflepuff.” He ate one of his Every Flavour Beans and made a sour face.

“Only if she gets red to be an honorary Gryffindor,” Dean answered. “I raise two beans.”

Harry had taken off his flannel shirt and, with just a t-shirt on, his bracelet was all the more obvious. But no one commented on it. He didn’t know if he wanted to be relieved they hadn’t made a big deal out of it, or sad no one had complimented it. He dropped two beans in the centre pile and ran his fingers through his own hair. “I like it. Makes me feel like everyone else.”

“No one else had purple hair before you started.”

“I don’t care. It’s fun. I like fun.” He laughed, thinking of the various reactions he’d received. “Professor Mason and Professor Willoughby didn’t say anything in class, but I saw Professor Flitwick on my way to dinner yesterday and he actually _squeaked_. It was pretty funny.”

Dean groaned, “Charms is kicking my arse this term. I was so afraid of casting anything all last year, and now it feels like I’ve forgotten everything. I want to drop Charms but then I’d be the only eighth year not in the class.”

Neville rolled his eyes. “If Millicent Bulstrode can learn these Charms, you can too.”

“I never thought I’d see the day you’d be helping the likes of _her_ ,” Seamus said with a bitter scowl. “Almost like you’ve forgotten the shit the Slytherins put us through last year.”

“I haven’t _forgotten_ , I’ve just… spent some time with her, thanks to Hannah, and… She’s so confused all the time. And I remember feeling lost in lessons and how angry I would get that I needed so much help. I can sympathise.”

“Slytherins don’t need our sympathy.”

“It’s almost like she’s… I don’t know, but she’s got something wrong with her.” At Seamus’s snort, Neville said, “Not like that. I mean she’s slow. She literally needs to be led around by the hand. And to keep her busy, they give her colour changing ink and she does this scribble thing just to watch the ink change. Miles and miles of parchment scribbles. It’s… really sad.”

“So what?” Seamus said, flinging his beans into the pile. “So _we_ have to help? Leave her to her stupid friends.”

“I can’t. Hermione’s sounded the bugle and Hannah and Sally-Anne have answered the call. And I’m certainly not leaving Hannah to fend for herself.”

“Just because you think the sun rises and sets in her knickers doesn’t mean -” Seamus cut off with an indignant squeal when Neville pushed him backwards off the bed. From the floor he whined, “Neville, what the fuck? That hurt!”

“Good, you fucking idiot. Don’t start talking about Hannah like you talk about Lavender.”

Seamus climbed onto the bed with a huff while Harry and Dean elbowed each other and laughed. “You lot are just jealous because Lavender’s putting out while you idiots are still wanking alone in your beds.”

“I’ve got a three-of-a-kind,” Dean said, laying out his cards.

“Damn,” Harry said, throwing his cards down. “Your tens beat my eights.” He snagged one of the beans from the pile. Peaches, thank goodness.

Ron collected the cards and began to shuffle them. “Not everyone likes to kiss and tell.”

“Nice try!” Seamus laughed. “As if we believe Hermione’s letting you near her naughty bits!”

“Well, not without extensive lessons first,” Ron said, waggling his eyebrows and grinning.

“Gross!” Harry yelled as he stood and stretched. “I definitely don’t want to hear about that!”

“Jealous!” Dean stage whispered.

“Not hardly! Hermione’s like my sister and I do _not_ want to hear about her doing nasty shit like that with… my brother? I don’t know, that sounds weird but you get me, right?”

“I don’t see Hermione as a sister, so it’s fine,” Ron laughed. “Another round?”

“Last one, I think,” Harry said as he sat back in the circle. “It’s getting late, and Terry and Draco are probably waiting for us to leave.”

“Terry’s probably fine as long as Sally-Anne’s still up.”

“And _Draco_ ,” Seamus said mockingly, “would bend over backwards for Harry these days.”

“Seamus,” Neville said with a sigh, “just lay off the Slytherins already. We’re all sharing this space and if we play nice, maybe they will too so we can all get through it. Don’t stir that cauldron.”

“Yes sir, Oh Captain, my Captain,” Seamus said with a lazy salute. “Only, I can’t forget they were the enemy during the worst year of my life, like you lot seem to be able to.”

“Hey! It was -” Dean began.

But Seamus talked louder over him. “Every time I raise my arm above my head, that blast scar pulls on me and reminds me that I nearly lost my life when those little shits tripped the charges too early. It’s not a vague ‘us versus them’, it’s my very own life. And now our biggest war hero,” he pointed at Harry, “and his two faithful sidekicks,” he ignored Ron’s indignant howl, “are leading a new campaign to befriend them all and my Captain is going along with it.”

“We’ve been given a second chance at life,” Harry said. “Don’t they deserve a second chance too?”

“Oh please, you’re just saying that because you want to snog the life out of Draco Malfoy!”

“I am not!” Harry said, rearing back as his face went up in flames.

“Fuck off with your protests. We’ve all seen you drooling over him after your little potions sessions. The only reason you’re still in that class is because of him.”

Harry spluttered, but Ron came to his defense. “Lay _off_ Seamus! I already told you -”

“Yeah, yeah. Fine. Forget I said anything and we’ll all just go on pretending we don’t see Harry making calf eyes at what was, up until _very_ recently, our biggest enemy.”

“I’m not - I’m not making _calf eyes_ at Draco.” Harry looked around the circle, shriveling up inside when the boys wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Am I?” he asked quietly.

Ron patted him on the knee. “It’s fine, Harry. I think it’s maybe only noticeable for us because we know you so well. But you’ve been _really_ friendly with him since you broke up with Ginny.”

“Not to mention all the girls you’ve turned down,” Neville added.

“And that’s kind of how you used to look at Ginny. Back in sixth year,” Dean said. 

“Oh,” Harry huffed, ruffling his hair and tugging it down over his eyes. “I didn’t know I was… so obvious.”

“Ron’s right,” Dean said, “it’s just ‘cause we know you so well.”

“Lavender hasn’t said anything,” Seamus said with reluctance, his earlier abrasiveness softened somewhat. “And she knows everything that’s happening to everyone.”

“Is it - do you _like_ him, Harry?” Neville asked tentatively.

“I - erm - yeah? I think I do.” Harry fiddled with the tails of his bracelet. “But I don’t know if he...” he huffed a sigh, “If he’s gay too.” Nervously he looked around the circle at his friends, hoping he wouldn’t see condemnation when he felt so happy to say the words aloud.

“Malfoy? Really?” Seamus said, his voice rising in pitch once again. “I mean, fuck, if you’re going to be all -” he waved his arms erratically with a sour look, “couldn’t you have been perving over a Hufflepuff like Justin or Ollie?”

“Are you sure it’s Malfoy?” Neville asked, rolling his eyes at Seamus. “You sure you don’t want to go for someone with Seamus’s charming mouth?”

“He’d best fucking _not_!” Seamus screamed, his voice cracking as he scrambled off the bed. “I swear if I see you giving my arse a glance -”

“Relax, you twit,” Harry sighed. “I’m not interested in you, we’re like puppies from the same litter. It’d be too weird.”

Dean frowned in thought. “Is that maybe what went wrong with Ginny? Another Gryffindor is too close?”

Neville nodded, “Yeah, you haven’t really dated a lot of girls. Maybe you’d like to ask Mandy or Padma out?”

Immediately Harry’s brain jumped to the _Witch Weekly_ centrefold pages he’d copied, and how the delicate paper was already starting to crumble from frequent handling. He wasn’t about to share with his friends how many times he’d pictured Basil Briggs’ corded drummer arms wrapping around him and squeezing his arse possessively. Or how badly he wanted to lick Blade’s nipple rings. 

“Yeah… no,” Harry said slowly. “That’s… not going to work out. Definitely into blokes.”

“Fuck,” Seamus muttered under his breath. Louder he said, “Fine. Either ask him out or hide that shit better, because otherwise someone’s going to figure it out.”

But advice like that only made Harry more nervous. It felt good to tell his friends, as if the pieces of him were more real now than before. But he didn’t know if he could handle _everyone_ knowing, not with the way the wizarding public clamoured for news of him.

Brewing potions on Thursday morning with Ernie there to see only made Harry jittery and clumsy. He nearly upset the entire cauldron when Draco’s fingers circled his wrist to stop him adding lacewing flies too early. Claiming a pounding headache, he fled the classroom before they could take note of his burning cheeks.

On Saturday morning, Ollie found him and they walked to Hogsmeade together to collect their brooms. The two of them followed Madam Hooch to the area behind the shop so Ollie could fly a few laps with his repaired broom. 

“It’s perfect!” Ollie said happily, hopping off with a grin. “I’m glad it was easy enough to fix.”

Madam Hooch smiled in return. “You’re welcome, Mr Rivers. Unfortunately I can’t say the same for you Mr Potter.”

Harry’s shoulders dropped. “Not worth fixing, then?”

“More like they’ll need extensive work. And… quite frankly I’m not as young as I used to be. And I wondered… would you be interested in fixing them yourself?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. I’ve managed to strip the worst of the lag off, but I’ll need help rebuilding those spells. And you seem particularly interested in the project.”

“I - I hadn’t thought of that…” Harry said. Ollie gave him a wide-eyed smile and nodded. “I guess I could? A-after the holiday?”

“Very good. I’ll see if I can dig up some materials that may be of interest. Even if some of the information is a little outdated, some basics never change. I’ll owl it to you.”

“Oh, I don’t get owl post,” Harry said sheepishly. “It’s, erm, kind of a hassle. But if you send it to Ron Weasley he’ll see that I get it.”

“That’s no problem. I’ll look forward to seeing you after the holiday!”

On the walk back to the castle, Ollie asked, “You don’t get any post at all?”

“Er… no. Outside of school, the only people that might want to write to me are Weasleys. Ron’s mum sends me letters sometimes but she has them delivered to Ron. Everything else is just - mad letters from mad fans and I don’t care about that.”

“But they send the letters anyway. Where do they go?”

“Kreacher, my old House Elf, gets rid of them for me. Burns them? Vanishes them? I don’t know. I don’t care.” Harry kept his eye on the road. “None of that is really real. They don’t know me, they just think they do.”

“I’ll admit, I was taken by surprise this year. Getting to know you some.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, you know Nev and Ginny were leading us last year and - man, did they ever put you on a pedestal. Harry Potter - beacon of shining hope and bravery.”

Harry scrunched up his nose, “Bullshit, they did not.”

“Dumbledore’s Army wouldn’t even exist without you -”

“Without Hermione, you mean.”

“According to Neville, it was you. Everything we did was in your name.”

Harry kicked at a rock in the path. “Ugh, I fucking hate being me sometimes.”

“Well, you’ve got every girl in school after you now, so it can’t be all bad being you.”

“No,” Harry said on a sigh, “I suppose not.”

\--------

At breakfast the following week, Ron called down to Ginny, “Oi, Mum’s written us!” He untied the envelope and gave their owl a piece of bacon. The owl bumped her head on Ron’s, to indicate she would await a reply, then flew off to the owlery.

Dean gave Harry an apologetic look, then scooted over to let Ginny in between him and Harry. “Morning, Harry,” she said as she sat down with a gentle smile. “I’m still not used to your hair.”

Harry bent his head down. “You can touch it if you like.”

She carded through the strands then patted him on the thigh. “It’s so unlike you. The old you, I guess.” Before Harry could answer, she turned to Ron. “What’s Mum say?”

Ron tore the letter open and scanned it. Biting his lip he said, “Er… she’s wanting to know how long everyone is going to stay for the holiday.” His eyes darted between Harry and Ginny. “Hermione and Harry. And if you’re bringing any friends home, Ginny. She’s trying to arrange rooms and meals and everything. It’s going to be a bit of a circus as usual.”

“Right, of course,” Ginny said softly. She looked down at her plate and then shook herself. Serving up eggs she said briskly, “Well, I’m not bringing anyone with me and I imagine Harry’s going to stay the whole time, right? Grimmauld Place is in no fit state and you don’t want to be here alone, do you?”

“I wasn’t sure if - because we -”

“We’re always going to be friends, always going to be in each others’ lives. You’re my brother’s best mate, Harry. This is just… part of the bumpy road to the new normal.” She gave him a small smile. “It’ll get easier with time.”

“All right.” He nodded at Ron. “I’m in. I’ll find Kreacher today and let him know.”

As usual, he caught Kreacher and Filch wheezing in laughter over something, both of them cutting off with matching scowls when Harry got close. Those two grew thick as thieves over the summer, while Harry was away and Kreacher helped with the rebuilding of the school. They were a perfect match, both of them hating the students as much as they did.

“Er, hello Kreacher. Having a good morning?”

“Well enough,” Kreacher murmured. His hands twisted in the dingy Hogwarts tea towel he’d stolen from the laundry. Although technically free, and given the title of Caretaker’s Assistant, he preferred wearing the uniform. “Was Master needing me?”

“I’ve told you I’m not -” Harry cut off with a sigh. “I just wanted to tell you I’m going to Ron’s for the holiday.” He didn’t want to mention Grimmauld Place directly, since that occasionally made Kreacher sniffly and sad.

The little elf nodded slowly. “Just as well, we’ve got work to be doing along here.” He pointed down the corridor. “Portraits to clean.”

Every time Harry found them, they were cleaning portraits. He’d long since suspected it was the subtlest method for goofing off either of them could think of. No one would notice or care about their progress, and Kreacher had made most of Filch’s other responsibilities easier with his elf magic. This way, at least, they continued to look busy, even if they were simply sharing gossip with the painting occupants.

On the last Friday of term, the eighth years had a party to celebrate the Christmas holiday, and to say goodbye to Kevin Entwhistle for good. Although he’s barely been in class for weeks, the end of term was his official end of tenure at the school. The Ravenclaws spent a good hour telling stories of his antics in their common room over the last few years, and toasted his engagement to Julia.

Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass sat in a corner, chatting with Hannah, Mandy, Lavender and Parvati. How did things work so smoothly for girls? Why couldn’t Blaise, Theo, and Draco join Harry and his friends by the fire? Harry fiddled with his cup, wondering if he could get the three of them to come out of his room and join the party. Probably not, he thought with a sigh. Not with so many hostile boys around.

To his surprise, Neville tugged at his sleeve and indicated the corridor. Harry followed him out curiously, trying not to make a fuss anyone would notice. Neville glanced around and then huffed, “So…”

“Yes? Everything all right?”

“I think... we should invite the Slytherins to the party.”

A zing of excitement shot through Harry. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, erm, Hannah was impressed. With the spell Malfoy did on my ribs. And she’s been…” He rolled his eyes, “She thinks I should extend a hand in thanks. Because I’m a ‘leader’ and can be a ‘good influence’ and all that.”

“Yeah, no that’s great. Want me to come with you?”

“Would you?” Neville asked with a plaintive look. “I feel stupid. I - she doesn’t - Hannah gets things. From last year. But I don’t know, Seamus is right, at least, that the girls have been much more forgiving and quicker about moving on.”

“I was just thinking the same thing.”

“Yeah, it’s probably because of Millicent. She’s like a five year old and they’re all pitching in with baby-sitting. Anyway…” He inclined his head at Harry’s door.

“Yeah, come on.” Harry knocked lightly and opened the door without waiting for permission. He’d expected books and parchments as usual, but the boys sat on Blaise’s bed with a card game between them, much like Harry and his friends played on Seamus’s bed.

Their welcoming smiles froze when Neville walked in behind Harry. “Potter, Longbottom,” Blaise said in greeting. “Are we in your way?”

“No,” Harry said, “actually we’re looking for you.”

Neville cleared his throat and said gruffly, “You’re missing the Christmas party.”

“Right,” Blaise said with a glance at Draco and Theo. “We… didn’t think it wise.”

“The girls - the Slytherin girls - are there,” Neville tried again. “It’s your Christmas party too. The elves brought sweets and pastries. Butterbeer and punch.”

“Thank you but -” 

“You can’t keep saying no,” Harry interrupted. “It’s never going to get better if you don’t make an effort too. We’re inviting you to the party. And yeah, it’s going to be a little weird and awkward, but that’s how it starts. If you always refuse, eventually we’ll stop asking and how will that mend things?”

“It’s just,” Draco said hesitantly, “the Quidditch game didn’t go so well...”

“Didn’t it?” Neville asked. “It’s the reason I’m asking in the first place. Hannah was impressed with your spellwork and thinks I should reciprocate by extending this invitation. Harry’s right. This is how we start. And I’m not saying we’ll be able to forgive in a snap after everything that’s happened but… The wizarding world is small and we’re going to be tripping over each other for the rest of our lives. This is maybe our best chance to fix things before they get out of hand.”

The three Slytherins looked at each other. Finally Theo said, “This is sort of my last chance to see Tracey before the holiday separates us.”

“I guess that settles it,” Draco said.

Neville and Harry led the way, with Blaise, Draco, and Theo following meekly behind. Not wanting to stir things up too vigorously, they crossed to the ‘Slytherin’ fireplace. Draco sat on one end of the sofa. Harry started to sit next to him, but worried someone might get the wrong idea. Instead he swung around to sit in an armchair, but that put Draco directly in his line of sight and worried about everyone seeing the faces he might make at the other boy. And so instead he settled on the floor where they would be more likely to miss him entirely.

“All right there?” Neville whispered with a grin as he sat in the armchair Harry abandoned.

“Fuck off,” Harry whispered back. He pulled his legs close to his body as Hannah stepped over him to squeeze in beside Neville, draping her legs over his with a smile.

Tracey followed right behind her and sat across Theo’s lap in the other armchair with a smacking kiss to his cheek. “You came! I missed you!”

Blaise sat on the other end of the sofa from Draco and said stiffly, “Well, Longbottom was persuasive.”

Hannah beamed at Neville and squeezed the hand he had around her waist. Before an awkward silence could take hold, Hannah asked brightly, “So, what are your plans for the Christmas holiday?”

Blaise smiled politely and said with cool reserve, “Nott and I are spending the holiday at Malfoy Manor.” He nodded in Draco’s direction.

“Oh,” Hannah said, “you won’t be spending it - with your families?” She seemed to realise where Theo and Draco’s fathers were mid sentence.

“My mother is spending the holiday in Italy with her current husband,” Blaise explained. Harry noticed Neville stiffening at the mention of Mrs - well she wasn’t Zabini, was she? What was her name? Blaise noticed the look and gave Neville a small smile.

“And is he likely to survive the holiday?” Neville asked. Hannah sighed and gave him a stern look.

“That remains to be seen.” Blaise adjusted the cuff of his sleeve and crossed his legs with a haughty, cold look. “No matter, Mother already has a new prospect waiting in the wings.” His mouth quirked up in a smile that didn’t soften the planes of his face.

“Zabini…” Tracey Davis sighed. “Can you at least _attempt_ to play nice?”

He was saved from replying by the arrival of Hermione and Ron. “This is a lovely little gathering, isn’t it?” Hermione asked.

Blaise and Draco both jumped to their feet, offering their seats. “Please sit,” Blaise said, indicating the vacant seats. “We can pull up another chair.”

“Nonsense,” Hermione said. “We can just just…” She flicked her wand at the sofa and it curled into a wide U shape. “There’s room for everyone.” She sat in the center, pulling Ron down with her. Blaise and Draco sat stiffly on either side of them. “Harry,” she said, “what are you doing on the floor?” 

Another flick of her wand had the end of the sofa extending towards him and Harry had no choice, really, but to sit next to Draco.

Hannah said, “We were just talking about our holiday. Dad and I are hosting some out-of-town family. And a little dinner with Nev and his Gran.”

“Oh lovely,” Hermione said. “I’ll be taking a portkey to Australia to see my parents. But I’ll come back a few days early to see the Weasleys.” She squeezed Ron’s hand with a smile.

“Have they thought any more about moving back to England?”

“They want to, but with their work and their home there… it’s a slow process I suppose.” Hermione smiled but Harry could see the tightening of her lips, and the way her hands twisted in Ron’s. While her parents wanted to be near their daughter again, leaving the life they’d built in Australia was proving difficult when their friends didn’t even know they had a daughter.

Daphne Greengrass came over then, with a platter of tiny sandwiches. “I see you boys finally decided to join the rest of us?”

“Daphne, you are an angel of the highest order!” Blaise said with a flourish, taking two sandwiches from the plate.

She rolled her eyes and set the tray on the coffee table. “There’s punch around here somewhere and - oh!” she said with a small smile when Ollie appeared at her side with a pitcher, Dean just behind him.

Ollie blushed and spoke to the pitcher in his hands. “I brought pumpkin juice. But there are bottles of butterbeer around too.” He floated the pitcher to the table and pulled up a chair from the centre tables.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled shyly before sitting down in a chair next to Ollie. Dean gave him an ‘I told you so’ kind of look and sat on the floor by the fireplace.

“Thomas, you can have my seat,” Theo said as he stood with Tracey. “I’ve got some last minute things to do before tomorrow.”

Tracey cackled loudly. “I’m not a ‘last minute thing,’ you berk!” Grinning, she led him from the room.

Neville whispered in Hannah’s ear, then nodded goodbye to everyone. Hannah swung her legs up into the chair, settling into it without Neville. “I think that’s all he can manage for now.”

“It was,” Blaise cleared his throat, "very nice of him to invite us to the party.”

“We’re glad you came.”

Although only mostly true, the sentiment settled gently on everyone. Small conversations picked up between Ollie, Daphne, and Dean, and with Hermione, Ron, and Blaise. Draco reached for a sandwich and nibbled at one corner. The hem of his sleeve rode up, exposing his bracelets again.

“I got one too,” Harry said quietly, pointing at it. He pulled up the sleeve of his jumper. “A bracelet.”

“Oh,” Draco said, “Erm, it’s nice.”

“Thanks. I couldn’t find a - a blue one. I liked your blue one.” He clamped his mouth shut, feeling more ridiculous with every word that passed his lips.

Especially when Draco smiled and fiddled with his bracelets, a black band and a thin brown one just like his blue one. “I like when it’s blue, too. It’s the same bracelet.” His finger ran under the brown bracelet, pulling it taut. “It’s charmed, to reflect my mother’s emotions. So I know she’s all right. Brown means she’s sleeping. But blue is when she’s calm. Happy.”

“Oh, that’s a - a good idea.”

“She sent it to me after Halloween. I went home in a panic when I didn’t hear from her. I’d forgotten she told me she’d have company and probably wouldn’t write and - anyway, I was ridiculous and now, I know she’s fine.”

“And the black one?”

“I just liked it.”

“Oh, okay,” Harry said, his tension easing. Maybe he wasn’t so ridiculous after all. He didn’t know what to say next, so he took a tiny sandwich and stuffed the entire thing in his mouth.

Even with Seamus glaring from the other side of the room, and Terry whispering intensely with Neville, Harry had a nice time at the party. The large group started to break up, with Ollie drawing Daphne to the window seat to talk with Ernie and Lisa Turpin. Ron left and was replaced with Mandy Broklehurst and a discussion of Arithmancy ensued. Although they didn’t talk much, Harry stayed by Draco’s side until the party began to break up.

As they walked down the corridor to their rooms, Harry said, “If you like… you can sit with us. On the train. Ron and Hermione and me.”

Draco smiled and looked at Harry from the side of his eye. “Thank you. We’ll see how things go in the morning. It’s always a crush.”

“Right well… good night, Draco.”

“Good night, Harry,” he said, with a little wave before closing his bedroom door behind him.

Harry walked into his room with a dopey grin on his face, imagining a long train ride with Draco Malfoy. Becoming friends was coming along swimmingly, and hopefully he could find out the probability of something more. Maybe Harry should think about coming out soon? Then, if Draco had a similar interest, he could approach Harry. It had gone all right with his friends. Perhaps after the holiday, when he’d had the chance to tell Molly and Arthur in person.

“Hey Blaise. That went well, don’t you think?”

“Mm,” he said absently, looking up from the letter he was writing. “I suppose it did. It’s good to see Daphne and Tracey assimilating so well.”

“And you? You had a nice time too?” Harry kicked off his trainers and sat cross-legged on his own bed. “I’m sorry about what Neville said - about your mum.”

“It’s all right. My mother is a - complicated thing most people don’t understand.”

Harry made a non-committal sound, unsure what to say about a woman vaguely accused of killing seven husbands. Or was it eight now?

He must have made some odd face, because Blaise smiled. “Maybe _you_ would. She’s rather like the Elder Wand.” He laughed when Harry spluttered in surprise. “Men _ache_ to acquire it, and when they do - they can’t help but brag to all and sundry about it until finally the scheming and treachery of other men does them in. He can only hope he holds onto the prize longer than anyone else.”

Harry’s mouth dropped open. “You think - Clarence? Killed her last husband?”

Blaise shrugged. “Most likely. And either he dies of some sort of heart attack doing things I don’t want to know about,” he rolled his eyes and muttered, “like numbers two and five. _Or_ Ethelbert Eddison makes a move. He’s the forerunner, at any rate.”

“That’s rather… unsettling. Shouldn’t you, I don’t know… warn someone?”

“Clarence knows. He’s got security and all. All those men know each other. The wizarding world, even internationally, is small and those rich old pricks are all in each other’s pockets. Just waiting their turn with her.”

“What is it that makes her so special?”

“She’s just… the sort of witch that draws the eye of a certain kind of wizard. I don’t know that I could explain but you’d know if you met her. She’s like a little doll that needs caring for. Those idiots eat it up, even if it means dying early and leaving a fortune to the pretty plaything.”

“Oh… that’s…” Harry trailed off, not knowing what to say.

“It’s not ideal, no. But as long as they’re taking care of her, I don’t have to, so I put up with it. And she’s happy, like a magpie after the next shiny thing.” Blaise looked down at his letter and dipped his quill in ink.

Harry pulled pyjamas from his trunk. “Right, well…erm... I’m going to shower and finish packing so…” When he came out, Ernie was settling into bed, talking about the train ride home tomorrow and the plans he’d made with Lisa to travel together. With luck, Harry thought, he’d be traveling with someone special too.

\--------

Unfortunately, the six Slytherins sat together in their own compartment, and Harry had to put up with Seamus’s whining about the party for entirely too long until Lavender made a mildly threatening remark and he finally stopped. Hannah smoothed Seamus’s ruffled feathers by asking about the internship McGonagall had found him with a maker of magical fireworks. Many of the eighth years were spending at least part of the holiday in various mini-training sessions, set up by the school. Seamus spent a good hour talking about Mr Brightly and the displays he put on throughout the wizarding world.

When they finally arrived in London, Harry looked around for Molly or Arthur. But Ron laughed, “We can get there on our own now.”

“Right, of course.” Harry shouldered his bag and waited for everyone else to get ready to Apparate. Ron took forever saying goodbye to Hermione, who would be taking a Portkey from the train station.

Ginny set her Quidditch bag down with a sigh. “Sickening, aren’t they?”

“Eh, it’s sweet.” Harry kicked at the ground and looked at the students meeting their families or Disapparating. “They haven’t been apart for this long since they started dating. He’d go with her if not for… Molly was pretty insistent he come home.”

“To see George. He’ll be there for at least part of it and he does better when he’s got family around him.”

Finally Ron joined them and the three of them Apparated to the Burrow. Harry sighed happily when he saw it, dotted with snow and looking just as cosy as he remembered. Molly and Arthur greeted them with hugs, exclamations over his purple hair, and a feast for dinner. Unexpectedly, Harry was shown to Percy’s old room since, “Percy wouldn’t be staying the night anyway.”

George popped by the next morning, and aside from a general weariness, he seemed to be in good spirits. He invited Ron and Harry to the shop to see the improvements he’d made. The store swirled with colour and movement that made Harry a little nauseous, but he congratulated George all the same. 

After lunch with George, Harry and Ron stopped by Quality Quidditch Supplies to see about acquiring a few used brooms for the school. He bought four that were in good shape, to replace the four he would help Madam Hooch restore. He didn’t have much hope he could fix them well enough to let anyone fly on them.

“What now, mate?” Ron asked. “Back home?”

“Actually… I was thinking of shopping for clothes?” He’d had enough of wearing Dudley’s oversized cast-offs. With his vaults of gold, it served no purpose to go about wearing itchy transfigured and charmed clothes.

Ron wrinkled his nose but nodded. “Yeah, all right. Nothing waiting for us at home anyway.”

“You miss Hermione?” Harry asked, reading between the lines.

“More than I thought I would. We’ve spent holidays apart before. But it’s different this time.”

Harry missed her too. And Australia. Perhaps he could surprise Ron with a visit for a few days before Hermione was meant to return. He stored the thought for another day and pointed to a muggle second hand shop, not far from the Leaky Cauldron. “Should we give this a try?”

“More of someone’s cast-offs?” Ron asked, but not maliciously considering he’d worn someone else’s clothing his entire life.

“Seems an easy place to start.”

Harry liked the shop for being cluttered and quiet. He turned to show Ron a teapot painted like a watermelon, only to find him with an oversized pair of novelty glasses on and a plush narwhal in his hands. Next to a set of flowery dishes sat a porcelain figurine of a tree frog in lotus position. At the back end of the shop were several racks of clothes, hanging haphazardly with no care for size.

“What size do you think I am?” Harry asked Ron, holding a t-shirt up to his chest.

The grey-haired woman behind the counter yelled out, “A medium. Men are either medium, extra large, or outrageously large. You’re small enough to be a medium.”

Ron and Harry shared a look and sorted quickly through the racks looking for medium sized t-shirts. “What do you think she does with the large shirts?” Harry whispered.

“Probably those extra large blokes wear them trying to look fit.” He held out a plain black t-shirt. “Here, try this one.”

Harry added it to the two in his hand. “Jeans too, if we can find them.” He called out to the woman behind the counter. “What do you think about jeans?”

“Try a thirty-two,” she called back. “Although they’re hard to find.”

They had no luck there, but Harry found a plain buttoned shirt and four t-shirts that worked well enough. At a regular clothing shop, Harry bought two pairs of jeans and a pair of sturdy black trousers, hoping his mental maths were incorrect and he could not, in fact, have purchased a fifth broom for that price.

“That’s all I can stand for today. I’ll worry about shoes another day.” Harry held out one foot, considering his worn trainers. “They don’t bother me much.”

“Are you going to want to do it another day?”

“No…” Harry whined. “Please don’t make me.”

“It’s your shoes, mate,” Ron said with a laugh.

“Another day,” Harry said firmly. “I’m ready to tear into the pie your mum made. Shopping is the worst.”

Molly insisted on washing the clothes he’d bought before he could wear them, and left Harry with no choice but to reluctantly agree. As they readied for bed that evening, he realised he’d forgotten pyjamas. But at least he had something new to wear the next day. 

The next morning, Harry eagerly pulled on his new jeans and t-shirt. He spun a circle in his room, happy with the fit and marveling at the way the clothes just sat on his body without itching at all. Almost reluctantly he put on an old Weasley jumper from Christmas past, feeling a little sad to cover the funny image of a large lemon on his t-shirt. Why did his shirt have a lemon on it? Why even make a shirt like that? Because it was funny, he thought with a smile as he skipped down the stairs to breakfast.

In the four days leading up to Christmas, Molly had them all doing chores to get the house ready while she baked delicious things they weren’t allowed to eat yet. Occasionally she handed Harry a biscuit or a mini tart on the sly, with a wink and a shushing gesture. It always gave him a secret thrill, even if she probably did the same to Arthur, Ron, and Ginny. Molly always did know how to make her large brood feel individually special.

George stopped by nearly every evening after the shop closed. Several times he invited them to visit, but Harry and Ron didn’t want to interfere with the running of the shop. George insisted it wouldn’t be interfering, and in fact they could be a big help if they could run the register in the last two days before Christmas. So long as they didn’t make any large mistakes, it would leave Verity free to help customers.

Harry politely declined, knowing a full day in the shop would make him sick. And he didn’t want last minute shoppers driving him spare with their oohing and aahing over the great Harry Potter. Ron, however, went both days and had a marvelous time. 

While he was gone, Ginny invited Harry to go flying in the orchard near the Burrow. Although she threw a few longing looks his way, for the most part they laughed merrily while chasing the snitch and passing the quaffle. Charlie arrived early in the afternoon and joined them until dinner.

Weasleys spilled from every corner of the Burrow on Christmas morning. George decorated the mantle with greenery and tiny ornaments that sang Christmas carols in a tiny chorus. Bill and Fleur had come the night before, but Percy and Audrey flooed in that morning. Molly had a large breakfast laid out, although there wasn’t enough room for them all to eat in the kitchen. Harry shared a little table with Ron in the sitting room, grinning at Ginny enduring a conversation with Audrey, who was just as boring as Percy on all fronts.

“This is for you,” Harry said to Ron when the gifts were being passed out.

Ron tore at the wrapping and laughed at the frog figurine from the second hand shop. “What the - why on earth did you buy this ridiculous thing?”

“It’s a portkey,” Harry said with a smile. “To Australia. It leaves on the third at nine in the morning.”

“You - you got me a portkey?”

“Yeah, I thought we could spend a few days with Hermione. Join her on the portkey back before school starts.”

“Harry… mate… that’s… “ Ron grabbed him in a fierce hug. With a laugh he said, “I just got you some boring new shoes.” He summoned a box and batted it into Harry’s lap.

“Oh yes,” Harry sighed. “Thank goodness I don’t have to go shopping for shoes.” The trainers were a simple grey and black that fit perfectly. “How did you know what size to get?”

“I duplicated one of your transfigured shoes and told the guy at the shop the size had worn off. No problem.”

Three days later they had another big meal, this time to say goodbye to Ginny as she headed to Quidditch camp for a week. During the midwinter break, the team scouts hosted the event to get a closer look at prospective team members. With luck, an offer for summer training would lead to placement on a team for the autumn season.

Harry pulled Ginny aside for a quick hug. “I’m going to miss you.”

“Will you?” she asked with a sad smile.

“Of course. This week has been - it’s been good, right?” He met her eye with a tentative smile, hopeful she had reconciled their friendship at last.

“Probably not good enough for you to change your mind, though, right?” His face fell and she hurried on. “I’m sorry - I’m so sorry, that wasn’t - I know. I _know_.” She huffed a sigh. “It’s good, Harry. I’m so happy we’re flying together again. We’ll have to do more of that at school too, all right?”

“Sure,” he said quietly. “I’d like that.”

The brief conversation reminded him he wanted to come out to Molly and Arthur. He didn’t know what Ginny had told them about the break-up but they’d skirted the issue completely at all times, pretending they’d never dated at all.

There came a morning after Ginny left when Ron went to help George at the shop and Arthur lingered over his breakfast, in no hurry to head to the office. A perfect moment.

“More tea, Harry?” Molly asked, setting a fresh pot in front of him.

“Yes, thank you.” He poured a cup and indicated her chair. “Here, why don’t you sit too, Molly? I’ve got… something I wanted to tell you and Arthur.”

“Oh, of course.” She exchanged a worried glance with Arthur, who set his newspaper aside. “Is everything all right? Is this about Ginny?”

“Erm, well, yes and no. It’s about why we broke up? I don’t know what she told you.”

Arthur took Molly’s hand and gave Harry a warm look. “Only that you two had grown apart during the war, and it wasn’t working. We didn’t want to pry… All of you have already been through so much.”

“Right. Yes. I’ve been… growing a lot. Trying to discover who I am. After the war, and the final battle specifically.” He didn’t need to talk about dying, they already knew about that. Molly reached across the table and gave his hand a supportive squeeze. “Right so… one of those discoveries is that… I am - gay.”

“Oh my,” Molly gasped.

“Well,” Arthur said with wide eyes on Harry. “Of all the things I thought you were going to say, that wasn’t one of them.”

Molly and Arthur shared a look, and Harry didn’t know if he should say more. He stayed quiet, giving them a chance to absorb the new information. But the silence made his skin prickle and he blurted out, “I just wanted you to know. First. Before the papers found out and blabbed it to everyone. Ginny knows. And Ron and Hermione. And that’s why - that’s why we broke up.”

“All right. Erm… we’re glad you’ve told us,” Molly said, glancing at Arthur to see his nod.

“You know, Harry,” Arthur said, “we’ve loved you as if you were our own son and I’ve found myself wondering many times over the years what your parents would do, so that I could do the same for you.” 

Arthur came around the table where Harry sat frozen in terror. Was he about to be chucked out of the house? But no, Arthur pulled him up into a tight hug. “Oh Harry, I don’t know what they would say about this specifically, but I know they loved you so much and they would want you to be happy.” He sighed and held Harry firmly by the shoulders. “You deserve to be happy and if it’s with another - another man. Well I’ll admit I don’t understand, but we want you to be happy too.”

“Thank you,” Harry choked out, trying not to cry. “That means so much to me. It really does.”

“Oh Harry,” Molly said with a watery smile. “You dear, sweet thing.” She also came around and hugged him. “You’ve been given so many burdens to carry. I hope this isn’t one of them.”

“No it’s - I mean, it’s new. And different. But… I’m hoping it’s a good thing. It feels right.”

“Good.” She sighed. “Okay. Well. This calls for cake.” Molly wiped her eyes and pulled last night’s lemon-glazed cake from the cupboard and cut the largest slice for Harry with a smile.

\--------

They shared a big meal with Ginny when she came home from camp, full of all the exciting stories of her week away. They’d run drills and gotten to fly with some of the members of various teams, as well as a day spent visiting six different stadiums and training centres. Ginny felt like she’d made a good impression with her chasing skills, and was confident she’d get an invitation to the Harpies training camp for next summer. 

The next day, Harry and Ron took the portkey to Australia, landing with a rough roll in the wizarding portion of the Perth Airport. The one hour ride to the Granger residence felt like an eternity, but it was worth it to see the shock on Hermione’s face when she opened the door.

With a squeal of excitement, she leapt into Ron’s arms. “What are you _doing_ here? And why didn’t anyone tell me?” She rained kisses all over his face, laughing all the while.

“Surprise,” Harry said mildly. “And Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas to you too!” she laughed, and wrapped him in a warm hug. “Oh, come in, come in! My parents will be so happy to see you!”

It had only been two weeks they’d been apart but it was the longest they’d been apart in over a year and it felt like an eternity. Hermione beamed over dinner, peppering her conversations with, “I can’t believe you’re here.” And, “I was going mad waiting for my own portkey to light.”

When the rest of the family went to bed, Harry and Ron went for a night flight over familiar countryside. As usual, the flying cleared the cobwebs from his mind and let Harry float freely above all his cares and worries. All that existed was the wind in his air and the subtle twists and turns of his broom. He’d miss this terribly once the Grangers moved back to England.

The end of the holiday, both in Australia and the tail end of it at the Burrow, came much too quickly. With a sigh, Harry packed his bag with all his new clothes. The old ones had undergone a ceremonial burning, with the ashes scattered to the four winds. Fuck the Dursleys and all they hadn’t offered.

Harry was ready to build a new family now. He had Ron and Hermione, Molly and Arthur. And the time had come for something more.

The time had come to find a boyfriend.


	8. Chapter 8

Arriving ahead of schedule to meet the Hogwarts Express was a novel event for Harry. Instead of scrambling to find a free space, they walked along calmly until they found two side by side compartments that were free. Over the next hour, more and more of the eighth years found them and the compartments slowly filled.

He kept an eye out for Draco, and the other Slytherins, but didn’t see them at all. Were they even on the train? Of course they were. The school frowned on students arriving by other means. Although they’d allowed Harry to do so at the start of the year. Hopeful, he looked out at the emptying platform one last time before giving up and joining the lively conversation.

Seamus regaled them all with his tales of fireworks displays, and showed them the handful he’d brought for after the welcome feast. Susan and Hannah had spent time at St Mungo’s, while Anthony had gone to work in the Magical Library of London. Terry went to an occamy preserve in Wales, and showed them all the wicked scar he’d received during a battle with poachers.

As the students streamed from the train, Harry saw the six Slytherins entering a carriage together. Pushing away his disappointment, Harry followed Ron and Hermione into a carriage and headed back to the castle.

After their holiday, and a small glimpse into future careers, the eighth year students approached their studies with renewed vigor. Harry considered Potions once again, trying to decide if he really needed it or not. But then he shared a laughing fit with Draco when Theo’s potion accidentally turned his hair green, and knew he didn’t really want to give up this time together.

On Tuesday of their first week back, Ron and Harry walked to Hogsmeade while Hermione was in her Arithmancy class. He met with Madam Hooch and agreed to lessons twice a week to learn about restoring the broken brooms. Part of him felt like it might be a wasted effort, but the larger part of him thought it would be fun to learn something new and not really related to his school work. While Headmistress McGonagall had appreciated the donation of four new brooms, it wasn’t nearly enough in Harry’s opinion.

“It’ll be fun for you,” Hermione said eagerly that evening. “Everyone needs a hobby! And maybe this will turn into a job for you, since you don’t want to be an Auror anymore.”

“Madam Hooch seemed interested in taking on an apprentice. Now that her daughter’s… gone…” The usual sadness swooped through Harry, but he didn’t let the feeling linger.

“Good. It’ll be good for both of you.” Hermione smiled and pulled another large book from her bag. Looking through the table of contents, she sighed, “I think I need to go to the library.”

“Again?” Ron asked. “You’ve been twice already in the three days we’ve been back.”

“I know, but Hannah and I are doing a little research. A side project.” Her eyes darted to Ron and Harry, then back to her book. 

Catching a whiff of something suspicious, Harry asked, “Researching what, exactly?”

Hermione sighed and slammed her book closed. “So don’t get mad…” and immediately Harry’s hackles were raised. “But… Millicent has been acting oddly since we got back to school.”

“More about Millicent Bulstrode?” Ron groaned.

“Yes, that’s why I didn’t want to tell you. Daphne and Tracey said they usually have a setback after the holiday but this… she was so mean to me our first night back and she’s been grouchy and cruel. Just like she was at the beginning of the year. It’s… odd.”

“Yeah,” Ron said. “That’s because she’s odd. And mean.”

“No, it’s something else. You boys don’t know her like I do. Not after living with her. And I know something’s wrong. Something happened during her break and I need to know what.”

Harry shrugged it off and left them to their research. He went to the Slytherin end of the common room to see how Daphne and Tracey enjoyed their holiday. And if he was lucky, Draco would come along soon.

\--------

A week later, Harry still had no idea how to ask Draco if he had an interest in dating boys. Or rather, one specific boy. Asking subtle questions of Lavender, and what she might know about the Slytherins, turned up nothing. Well, not nothing, because he learned Daphne had an interest in Ollie. A sentiment Ollie wholeheartedly returned, according to Dean.

Dejected with his failures, Harry agreed to meet Ginny and the Gryffindor team on the pitch for a Saturday afternoon fly. His mood improved when the team finished their practice and left Ginny alone to fly with Harry. They had a seeker’s match, best two out of three, then rested high up on the Quidditch stands to watch the sunset before dinner.

“You did great out there,” Ginny said, tossing him the dormant snitch.

“You’re just being kind because you beat me.”

“I’m trying to be a gracious winner.”

Harry laughed and shook his head at her.

“Seriously, though,” she said with a smile. “You’ve been - you look different and it’s a good look on you.”

“Thanks,” he said, feeling the heat rising in his cheeks. “I feel a lot better.”

“You’re certainly more calm with clothes that fit.”

“That’s for sure. I always thought I had an excess of energy. Turns out I was just reacting to itchy clothes. I still need to get pyjamas but I make do…”

“I’m happy for you.” She gave him a warm smile, that finally didn’t beg more of him than he could give.

He carried that warm feeling with him back to his dorm. Humming a happy song, he put away his flying gear and looked for a clean jumper to wear to dinner. It seemed he still needed to round out his wardrobe a little. Deciding a light cleaning charm would do on his old jumper, he put it on and left for the Great Hall.

Ginny sat near him, and regaled Ron with the epic tale of Harry’s failure to win their seeker’s match. For the first time, Harry felt like they could really be friends, and that the awkwardness would continue to fade. He had too few friends to risk losing Ginny.

Unfortunately, Blaise noticed his cheery mood.

“So you went flying with Ginny Weasley…” he said to Harry in the quiet of their dorm.

Harry sighed heavily. “Yes, Blaise. We went flying. As friends. And it was fun. Friendly fun. Because we are friends and _just_ friends.”

“Even after you spent the holiday with her family? You just seem so happy now. Are you sure you can’t be happy with her?”

“Fucking hell, Blaise! Why are you so fucking insistent about this? We’re not getting back together. I don’t want to date her and she doesn’t want to date me. We just want to be friends and I’m happy because we’re finally just friends. All right?”

“I know you _say_ that but…”

“Argh! Blaise! Fuck!” Harry yelled, startling and silencing the other boy. “Fuck,” he whispered again, tearing at his hair.

How could he get this through to Blaise? Did he finally need to know the truth about Harry? He bit his lip, scared to say the words out loud. Would Blaise ask if Harry found him attractive? Because that seemed to be at the forefront of every straight boy that learned Harry was gay and… he couldn’t really lie about it. Blaise was fucking fit, and Harry didn’t want to risk losing him as a friend when he found out.

“Harry…”

“Blaise… don’t. Just… okay. Ginny and I are not getting back together. Ever. Because… I’m gay. Really gay. Too gay to pretend to date a girl and she knows it and it’s fine, or it’s fine _now_ because she’s had some time to process it and she knows I’m not dating her or any other girl.” Adrenaline rushed through his veins as his fight or flight instinct kicked in while he waited for a reaction.

Blaise blinked at him several times, his face blank with shock. “I see.” He continued to blink rapidly, and Harry didn’t know if he should say anything else. “And so this means…” He braced himself for the question forming on Blaise’s deliciously plump lips. “Ginny Weasley is well and truly shot of you.”

“What.”

“Ginny Weasley. Totally free of you. Not just a temporary break you can mend but… but really free. And she’s okay with that?”

“Er…” Harry didn’t know what to do with the turn the conversation had taken. “Yes? We talked about it a lot over the holiday. And yeah… she’s okay with us staying friends.”

“I have to go find Draco,” Blaise said suddenly and ran from the room as though a nundu was after him.

“What the fuck?” Harry asked no one at all. Gathering his things, he went to the bathroom for his evening shower.

And he tried not to get too excited about Blaise telling Draco that Harry was gay. It didn’t matter who knew anymore. Now that he’d told the Weasleys, word could spread as such things tended to. But if _Draco_ knew, then maybe it would be easier for Harry to make a move.

The next night, Harry sat with the Slytherins around their fireplace, joined by Ollie and Dean. He kept up a steady stream of chatter with Draco, and even followed the boys to his room when the hour got late and the girls went on to bed. But Draco didn’t offer a wink or a smile or anything to indicate he especially wanted Harry nearby.

During their regular brewing session on Monday, Harry asked for more help than he needed so that Draco had an excuse to linger or maybe press his body against Harry’s. An excuse he didn’t use, but that was okay because maybe he didn’t realise Harry wanted him yet. So Harry made sure to maintain their conversation on the walk to Defence and when they got to the classroom, he followed Draco all the way to Draco’s armchair.

“Can I sit here with you?” Harry asked, already transfiguring the chair into something a little wider for them both. But only a _little_ wider so their hips and thighs could press up against one another.

“Erm, sure,” Draco said with a glance around the room. Before sitting, he widened the chair even more. And then even more once he sat down, so that a few inches of space remained between them.

Harry covered his disappointment by digging into his bag for his Defence notes, and subtly shifted closer to Draco in the process.

“Do you have enough space?” Draco asked as he widened the chair a third time.

Giving up for now, Harry nodded and stayed on his end of the chair-turned-loveseat. Maybe loveseat was a lofty name for a thing that wasn’t nurturing any love. Maybe a lounge. Divan. Settee. Might as well be a whole fucking _sofa_ at this point.

He almost asked Blaise about it that evening, but then he found him in the bathroom with a blood-soaked cloth held to his nose. “What the fuck happened to you?!” Harry’s screech echoed against the walls.

Blaise looked over his shoulder at Harry with a shrug. “It’s fine. Just needs a spell or two.” He pulled the cloth away and a stream of blood dripped down his chin. “Fuck. It’s fine. It looks worse than it is.”

“Who did this to you?”

“I did it to myself,” Blaise said, shaking his head slowly.

“Blaise, seriously. If someone attacked you -”

“It wasn’t anything I didn’t expect and nothing I can’t handle. Just leave it alone.” He sighed down at the sink, and rinsed away the droplets of blood. “Maybe find Draco for me?”

He didn’t see Draco or Blaise for the rest of the day, but wouldn’t soon forget the attack. He told Ron about it, in confidence, just to have someone else keep an eye out with him. When Harry tried to eat lunch with the Slytherins a few days later, despite the odd stares from other students, they all smiled in welcome and opened up space between Daphne and Blaise. He couldn’t very well push Daphne to the side to sit on her left next to Draco instead, so he sat down and pretended that was where he wanted to be all along. He almost brought up Blaise’s attack, but didn’t want to stir up trouble with the Slytherins in the Great Hall.

He tried whining to Ron about it all that evening, but they were interrupted by Hermione’s bombshell. “Millicent’s been obliviated.”

“What?”

“Several times over the years. And not very well either.”

“No way! People would know if she -”

“Daphne and Tracey are with her in the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey contacted St Mungo’s and they’ve sent a Healer _and_ an Obliviator to work on her.” She pulled a scroll from her bag and showed them a few diagrams. “Here’s a regular brain scan, and here’s the one I took of her yesterday after we figured it out. See this dip? That’s where she’s struggling to remember a thing that isn’t there anymore.”

“That’s just - that’s horrible,” Ron said faintly.

Hermione’s voice lowered, “Daphne thinks it might’ve been Millicent’s father. He’s always been odd, she says, and might be trying to cover his tracks or something.”

During the Gryffindor boys’ card game, Neville spoke with sympathy in support of her plight. Surprisingly, Seamus didn’t have anything ugly to say about her, even when Millicent returned to the common room full of spit and vinegar. Daphne spread the word that she would be meeting with the Healer once or twice a week to mend what damage they could. In the meantime, the eighth years offered what support they could in the form of study guides, sweet treats, and an excess of patience with her fluctuating moods.

By the end of January, Harry had all but given up on Draco. He never responded properly to Harry’s attempts at flirting, which Harry assumed meant Draco wasn’t into boys. His last reason for staying in Potions evaporated.

“I just don’t know that I’m learning anything,” Harry said, looking around the lab so he didn’t have to meet Draco’s eye. “And I feel like I’m holding you and Theo back. Interfering with your Potions Mastery… so… yeah, I won’t be coming back.”

Draco gave him a smile that Harry hoped wasn’t in relief and said, “Well if you change your mind, I’m sure Professor Willoughby will let you back into class at any time.”

“I doubt I’ll want to. I’ve never been a fan of Potions to begin with and now that I’m in Hogsmeade twice a week with Madam Hooch, I don’t have as much time for it anymore.”

“Is that going well?” Theo asked.

“Yeah, definitely. I’m learning a lot about broom maintenance, obviously, but also the delicate work of layering spells so they don’t explode apart. It’s been fun.”

“You know,” Draco said, “you’ll be using lots of potions if you’re going into broom design or maintenance.”

“I know, but I don’t have to brew them myself, right?” Harry grinned sheepishly, “And anyway, we all know I’m pants at it and only got this far because you two dragged me here. You’ll move faster without me.”

Theo and Draco shared a look, then Draco nodded. “Yes, but we’ll miss you too.”

“There’s nothing to miss,” Theo said, rolling his eyes and setting up his cauldron. “We all share living quarters. Enjoy your morning, Harry. We’ll see you in Herbology.”

Harry used his new free time to fly laps around the Quidditch pitch. Not because Madam Hooch wanted him to feel the difference in one layer of charms over another. Not because he had a snitch to catch or a quaffle to toss. Not because he needed to get to the other end before Ron. 

Just because he wanted to fly.

Would this rush of feeling ever get old? He wanted to close his eyes and savour the rush of wind on his face and the vast openness of the sky on all his other senses, but flying with one's eyes closed usually ended in meeting the ground or a tree suddenly and painfully.

Going to classes and lunch almost seemed like a let-down after the joy of being in the air. On his walk to Spintwitches that afternoon, Harry kept his blood running high with Red Sun’s album rocking as loud as he could stand in his own bubble of sound. And he made a mental note to seek out more music after work.

Instead of the middle-aged wizard, a much younger wizard with spiky brown hair stood behind the counter of Maestro’s Music Shop.

“Good afternoon and welcome to - Harry Potter!” the young man said with eyes the size of galleons. He grinned widely, “Wicked. Let me know if you need any help.”

“Er… yeah, I was actually looking for - the Maestro?” Although Harry didn’t mind being helped by the fit young man in a skin tight t-shirt and - holy fucking shit, was he wearing eyeliner? The heavy black eyes of Red Sun at Night flashed through his mind, but Harry pushed that away. _Not now_ , he mentally yelled at his cock.

“My dad. He’s off today but if there’s anything I can help you with…”

Harry cleared his throat and hoped he wouldn’t squeak. “Yeah, he recommended some music for me and I wanted some other suggestions.”

“Right sure,” he said, coming around the counter. Damn, Harry thought, leather trousers too. His lucky fucking day. “I’m Sebastian. Pleased to meet you.” The hand he held out for Harry to shake had several rings on it, and two bracelets covering a tattoo that Harry couldn’t read, but instantly wanted to know everything about. “What did he start you with?”

“I asked for Red Sun at Night first.”

Sebastian nodded and led Harry to that corner of the shop. “‘Left to die’ turned out great, yeah? I was worried when I heard it was heavy on the war but they did a great job. Better than ‘Explode Me,’ in my opinion.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely a fine line between expressing our pain and capitalising on tragedy. But ‘Tomorrow without Yesterday’ and ‘Walk Alone’ were both brilliant.” Harry pointed at a small box. “He also gave me Screaming Banshees.” He almost laughed at Sebastian’s eye roll.

“Of course he did.”

“They were kind of loud.” He actually did laugh when Sebastian snorted. “And he also gave me Everclear, which I really liked.”

“Right, good. Dad and I have slightly different tastes in music. But we overlap at Empty Cauldron.” He offered Harry one of the little metal tablets. “And if you’re looking for something really different, I like Cake. They're an American muggle band unlike anything I’ve ever heard. Oh, you could try DemiDoxies. They’ve got sweet percussion, and their lead guitarist is a master.” He held out two more tablets.

“I _do_ like drum solos,” Harry said, once again shoving away images of his Red Sun at Night photo spread, and Basil’s drummer arms. Was that his imagination or did Sebastian’s fingers graze his palm as he took the tablets? Was Sebastian _interested_ in Harry? Or was Harry just hoping for validation after repeated rejection from Draco?

With a mental shrug he followed Sebastian to the counter to pay. “It’s nine sickles.” 

That seemed low to Harry, but he handed it over without comment. “Nice ring,” he said as Sebastian’s ringed hand took the coins.

“Thanks,” Sebastian said, turning his hand to show off the large sapphire on his ring finger. “My mum and my wife are both Ravenclaws.” He gave Harry a thumbs-up to show off the silver snake looped three times around his thumb. “And Dad’s a Slytherin.”

Oh, a wife. So… not interested in Harry then. “Nice. And you?”

Sebastian turned his wrist so Harry could see his tattoo. In four lines the thin block letters read, ‘Huff and Puff forever.’ “Hufflepuff all the way. We’re having a baby girl in a few weeks and if she doesn’t sort yellow and black, I’m going to cry buckets of tears.”

Harry laughed lightly. “I thought House pride wasn’t supposed to matter after school.”

“Probably for the rest of the wizarding world but here, with the school just over that way? Yeah, there’s a lot of House Pride going on. Mr Flume gives Hufflepuffs a discount at Honeydukes.” He leaned in close and whispered, “Even after school. But it’s our little secret.” He winked at Harry and offered him a brightly wrapped sweet from a Honeydukes box behind the counter.

“Alas… no such special treatment for Gryffindors.”

“But there’s probably some for Harry Potter, right?”

Harry’s smile tightened and he held up his sweet. “Occasionally.”

“Not often enough after the shit you lot went through,” he said as he passed Harry the bag of music.

Harry took the bag and ran through a quick mental calculation. “It should have been twelve or thirteen sickles, shouldn’t it?”

Sebastian gave him a little wink. “Come back when you’re ready for more. I recommend Wednesdays and Thursdays when I’m here so you’re not led astray by my father’s poor taste.”

“Yeah… er… thanks.” Harry left, wondering if he felt happy or angry about his discount. He wasn’t the only one that deserved prizes and praise, but he was certainly the most recognizable one. In the end, it would probably never stop rubbing him raw, so he let it go for now and let the Cake album carry him home.

\--------

The first week in February meant everyone becoming giddy over the approach of Valentine’s Day. To Harry, it seemed everyone wanted to pair with someone for Hogsmeade that weekend. Specifically they wanted to pair with _him_ and he could not be less interested in the mob of witches vying for his attention. 

Flying with Ginny and Ron on Saturday morning, he complained bitterly about it when they rested on the Quidditch stands. Ron rolled his eyes, “Oh you poor thing, having everyone want your love and attention. Must be horrid to be so well liked.”

“Oh stuff it, you know they don’t like _me_. And it’s a hassle, tripping over those girls every time I leave the warded hallway. Dean chased off a group loitering by the age line just yesterday.”

“You need to find someone, Harry,” Ginny said gently. 

“I’m trying! But he’s not - it’s not as easy as… as it could be.” Harry growled at the sky. “I just thought that word would spread faster after I told Blaise.”

“You told Blaise Zabini?” Ginny asked, her voice sharpening. Both Harry and Ron looked at her, but she avoided their eyes, fiddling with the lacing on her broom. “What - did he say - about it?” she bit out.

Harry hesitated and scrubbed at his hair. “Erm…”

That caught her attention and she narrowed her eyes at him. “Harry, we both know you’re about to lie to me. Save us both the embarrassment and tell me what he said. The truth.”

“Well… he kind of took our break-up really hard,” Harry began.

“He did?”

“Yes. Definitely. And he was always asking me why we broke up and why we weren’t getting back together and was I _absolutely sure_ I didn’t want to give it another try…”

“Oh,” she said faintly and looked down at her broom again.

“Yeah, so when he started up again after we went flying a few weeks ago… I told him I was gay, that you knew it, and that we weren’t getting back together. And he stared at me in shock for a minute and then, erm…” 

“And then what.” Her words were clipped and even, giving no indication of anger or curiosity.

Harry glanced at Ron, who shrugged. “He said something like, ‘Is she really free of you?’ And then said he had to go find Draco.”

“Free of you,” she echoed.

“Yeah. And then he went to find Draco. He must have told Draco, right? And if Draco knows I’m gay and hasn’t said anything then… it must mean he doesn’t want me, right?” He looked back and forth between Ron and Ginny. “What do we think?”

“I don’t know, mate,” Ron said with a shrug. “Maybe it’s a touchy subject for Malfoy. You know his parents probably talked all kinds of shit about marrying a pretty blonde witch to pop out pretty blonde babies.”

“Maybe. What do you think, Ginny?”

“Hm? Oh… erm… I don’t know either. It’s possible Zabini kept your secret. That he had other things to talk about with Malfoy.”

As much as he hated being the source of gossip, in this one instance, he didn’t see how it was possible Blaise kept it to himself. Who wouldn’t want to be the one with the hot, juicy gossip of Harry Potter being gay? Ron, Hermione, and Ginny hadn’t said anything, but they were practically family and protected Harry and his private life as if it were their own. But Blaise? They were friends, but not that sort of friends. Right? Harry didn’t know anymore.

“Listen… this was fun,” Ginny said, moving away from the two boys. “But I have some homework to do. I’ll catch you two later.” She mounted her broom and flew towards the castle.

“Do you think Blaise kept the secret?” Harry asked Ron.

“It _is_ a little strange that no one’s mentioned it. You know how fast that kind of gossip would travel.”

“You can ask him about it later. For now… let’s go.” Ron stood and called his broom up. “Help me find something fun for Hermione for Valentine’s Day.”

“Nothing like the last minute,” Harry said with a grin.

Ron took off towards the Hogsmeade path, yelling behind him, “Eight days is hardly the last minute!”

They wandered a few shops, picking up little care package items for Hermione along the way. Socks that would massage her feet with a simple spell. Dark chocolate cocoa mix. Sappy historical fiction about the young witch that broke the marriage law mandates of 1720. Truffles from Honeydukes.

While Ron continued shopping, looking for any other little things that might catch his eye, Harry stopped in at Spintwitches to get another broom repair guide from Madam Hooch. He waited for Ron on the corner, ready to head back to the castle at last.

Unfortunately it wasn’t Ron that found him several minutes later, but a reporter from the _Daily Prophet_.

“Mr Potter,” the short wizard squeaked in excitement. “What a lovely surprise! How are you on this lovely Saturday?”

“No comment,” Harry said gruffly as he started up the path through town. He sent a patronus to Ron before his mood soured too much to manage it. Ron could find his own way back to school.

“Mr Potter, if I could… How are your classes going this term? Do you like the new system the Headmistress laid out? Do you have anything to say about the special treatment your year has earned?”

“No comment,” Harry bit out as he walked faster to the Three Broomsticks where they’d left their brooms.

“Valentine’s Day is coming up, Mr Potter. You’ve probably got the pick of the litter, am I right? Is there a special witch you’ll be spending the day with? Is there a chance you’ll be getting back together with Ms Weasley? Or perhaps some other witch?”

“No comment,” Harry growled as he removed the wards from his broom. He paused in thought. Gossip wasn’t spreading on its own, and perhaps here was his opportunity to make that happen. He spun around to face the little wizard, a smile on his face.

A manic smile, perhaps, given the way the wizard jumped back. But he recovered quickly and offered Harry a hopeful smile in return. “Another witch? Could you give me a name? A little mention in the _Prophet_ might light her cauldron, if you catch my drift. So who’s the lucky lady?”

“Oh there’s no lucky _witch_ ,” Harry grinned. “There won’t be _any_ witches for me. If you catch _my_ drift,” he finished with a wink. He took a moment to savour the shocked look on the reporter’s face before flying back to school where the squirrelly twit could not follow.

Harry cornered Blaise in their dorm just before dinner that evening. But he didn’t really know how to broach the subject so he simply blurted out, “You didn’t tell Draco I’m gay.”

Blaise barked a little laugh and shook his head at Harry. “No, why would I?”

“I don’t know. Gossip like that… most people wouldn’t keep it to themselves.” Although the people Harry had told so far had kept it quiet.

“Maybe I’m not most people. Maybe I think that’s not news for gossiping about. I know how hard you work to keep yourself to yourself. And even if you didn’t, that’s a very sensitive subject and not up for public consumption, no matter the person.”

“Oh. That’s very… mature of you.”

“Surprised?” Blaise asked lightly. He tilted his head, considering Harry. “Or disappointed? Were you _hoping_ I’d tell Draco?”

“No! No of course not,” Harry said with a tad too much desperation. “I mean… but if you did… hypothetically… do you think he would… like that sort of information?”

Blaise laughed loudly, a deep, rich sound that sent a pleasant tingle down Harry’s spine. “Oh Harry… that would be telling, now wouldn’t it?” He gave Harry a condescending pat on the cheek and winked on his way out the door.

Harry’s frustration wasn’t to last long because bright and early the next morning, the _Daily Prophet_ dropped on breakfast plates all over the Great Hall. And Harry made the front page. All of it. In big, bold letters.

HARRY POTTER IS GAY!

“Wow,” he laughed, taking the paper from Neville, “they did not sugar coat that at all!”

Ginny’s eyes widened. “I didn’t even know they made letters that big.”

Hermione, sharing a copy with Ron, said, “It’s magic. They can make the letters as big as they want. And the article is so short, they had to fill the page with something. You should have elaborated more, Harry.”

“Oh fuck,” Ginny gasped, “they mention me by name!” She ripped the paper from Harry to read it better. “Former girlfriend, Ginevra Weasley… ugh I’ll never get a boy to kiss me now! They’ll think I’ll turn them gay!”

“Good,” Ron said, moving on already and eating a piece of toast, “then Harry will have someone to kiss too, right? _Or_ maybe there’ll be boys lined up all the way down to Hogsmeade to kiss you and ‘break your curse’ and prove they aren’t gay? Or to console your poor broken heart? I don’t know… whatever, if I were you, I’d turn down the first few guys that approach me, just to be cautious.”

“And if I were _you_ ,” Ginny said with a sickeningly sweet smile, setting the paper in Harry’s lap, “I would watch my back for a Bat Bogey Hex that had me bleeding into next week.”

“Bat Bogey Hex,” Harry said softly, his eyes darting to Ron. He gave the paper back to Neville. “Did you - did you attack Blaise a couple of weeks ago?”

Ginny’s back stiffened. “What? Why would you ask that?”

“I saw him - nose bleeding like mad and I’ve seen it happen before with that hex. Did you?”

She blinked at Harry for a moment, then turned to her breakfast. “Well if I did,” she said, viciously stabbing a piece of sausage, “he probably deserved it.”

“Ginny!” Hermione and Ron said at the same time.

“What did he do to deserve that?” Harry shoved his plate away, trying his best to keep his face neutral. “He’s been so nice this whole year. We’re - we’re friends now and he wouldn’t… How could you do that?” 

“Yeah, he’s all friendly _now_ but that’s only because it’s in his best interest.” She dropped her fork with a clatter and glared at Harry. “Once he’s gotten everything useful out of you, he’ll drop you like a hot cauldron.”

“That’s not true! He’s - he’s been a good friend…” No, it couldn’t be true because Harry had to believe there would be people out there that could see the real him, and not just reflections of the war.

Ginny’s mouth curled in disgust. “Has he? Or is he just a very pretty boy you’re hoping to snog?”

“Ginny,” Hermione whispered, looking behind her at the rest of the students, all eyeing their corner. “They’re watching you.” 

But Ginny ignored her, continuing her rant. “Malfoy hasn’t shown any interest so maybe Blaise Zabini will take his place?” 

“Enough, Gin, lay off him already,” Ron said.

“He would, you know,” she continued in a hard voice. “Anything for his fifteen minutes of fame. You should take him up on it. One fame-seeker after another is probably the best you can hope for anyway.”

Hermione’s gasp sounded like it came from a million miles away. Harry’s vision tunneled for a moment and he came to in time to hear Ron telling her she’d gone too far. Ginny glared back defiantly for a moment and made to leave the table.

Harry clamped a hand around her wrist and forced a wide smile to his face. “You can’t go off in a strop,” he said hoarsely. “They are watching us. So I’m going to smile at you and pretend everything is just fine.”

“Harry,” she whispered, her eyes turning honey-gold with tears, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it -”

“But I want you to know that in the endless list of ugly words that have ever been thrown in my direction, those probably rank in the top ten.”

Harry stood and kissed Ginny on the top of her head and with the stupid grin still on his face, left the Great Hall before the panic attack could take him down.

\--------

Did he want to be found? Or did he want to be alone? He didn’t really know, so he hid in plain sight in his dorm’s bathroom. He let DemiDoxies’s ‘What I Lost’ play on loop, with a loud drum solo that reverberated through him, drowning out everything else. After untold replays, he was interrupted by a loud screech of, “Merlin, _fuck_ , Harry!”

Harry jerked his head up to see Draco Malfoy jumping out of the sound bubble, wide-eyed and with hands over his ears. Harry tapped the album with his wand and the sound cut off. “Sorry! I’m sorry - I was… I like the echo…” he finished lamely.

Draco sat next to him against the wall, knees pressed to his chest like Harry, and didn’t say anything for several long moments. “Ron said you leaked the news on purpose.”

“Yeah, I did.” His brain stuttered through a thousand more things he could say, and settled on, “I got tired of pretending.”

“How long have you known?”

Harry laughed, but cringed at the sad sound of it. “It was real just a few months ago. But if I’m honest… probably since I died back in May.”

Draco turned startled eyes on Harry, but Harry just shrugged sheepishly. Draco set his hand down between them and leaned closer to Harry, staring up at him through his lashes. “Blaise said you might not mind if I came to find you.”

Harry looked down at Draco’s signet ring. Tracing it lightly, he whispered, “I - I don’t…”

With a soft smile, Draco asked, “Can I kiss you?”

But Ginny’s ugly words still coursed through Harry’s brain. He recoiled and cradled his head in his arms. “Why? So you can have something to tell the papers too?”

The silence settled on Harry like a suffocating blanket, and he longed for the loud music to slash through it so he didn’t have to think about those things anymore.

“Is that what you think?” Draco asked at last.

What started as a head shake soon became a tremble that wracked his entire body. No, it couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t. Harry’s magic swelled, tingling along his skin. He felt the air shifting as Draco reached for him. “Don’t touch me!” he hissed loudly.

There was another beat of silence and then ‘What I Lost’ blasted through the bathroom. On the second repeat, Harry’s hands unclenched from his hair and the tremors subsided. On the third repeat, Harry drew air into his lungs without the painful burn. And on the fourth repeat, Harry said, “I’m sorry. I know you’re not like that.”

“Not anymore,” Draco said with a rueful smile.

Harry held his gaze while the music drowned out the chaotic thoughts still bouncing around inside. “I’ve never kissed a boy.”

A faint blush painted Draco’s pale cheeks. “Me either.”

Harry hid his face in his arms again. “What if I don’t like it?” He couldn’t voice his other worries… that he wouldn’t enjoy kissing anyone, that no one would love him, that no one would see the real him.

“I promise it won’t hurt my feelings if you don’t like it.”

Nervous, wet laughter bubbled out of Harry. When he lifted his head, Draco held out a glass of water to him. Harry sipped at the water, surprised to find a light minty taste. “How did you get minty water?”

Draco winked. “Magic.”

A frizzle of desire shot through Harry, taking the place of his nervous panic from earlier. He turned off the music and took a deep breath. “What if I’m terrible at it?”

“I’m willing to practice until you get better.”

“You’re quite the smooth talker,” Harry said.

Draco shrugged with barely concealed eagerness. “I’ve wanted this for a while.”

“Because I’m a famous war hero?”

“Because waifish goth boys are my type.”

Harry leaned in, with Draco meeting him halfway in a gentle pressing of lips. Warmth bloomed inside and spread throughout his whole body, opening him up to possibilities instead of shrinking away in distaste. It rattled his magic once again, but not like shards of glass threatening to explode out from him. Instead, all his senses came alight and narrowed on the light swipe of Draco’s tongue across his lips.

“How was that?” Draco whispered, pressing his forehead to Harry’s.

“I guess it was all right,” Harry mumbled, not quite succeeding in hiding his grin. He _almost_ felt embarrassed over his body’s reaction to one simple kiss. “I might need more practice at it.”

Draco laughed and bumped their shoulders together. It sparked more laughter in Harry, and before long, the walls resounded with the joyous sound. Draco turned his palm up to Harry, and Harry laced their fingers together.

“So… waifish goth boys?” 

“Er… yeah…” Draco bit his lip to hold back his grin, but he couldn’t hide his deep flush. “If you wanted to pierce your lip or wear some eyeliner. Trade your trainers for heavy boots. Maybe a tattoo of a snitch circling your bicep or something cheesy like that… I wouldn’t mind.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Draco stared at their joined hands. “If you don’t want to tell anyone… I wouldn’t mind that either. We can take things slow. I’m not here because of the _Daily Prophet_.”

“I know… I’m sorry about that. It wasn’t you… It was… Ginny said something and it - cut me to the quick.” After a moment’s thought he said, “They’ll always write about me. And about whoever I’m dating. If you don’t like that kind of attention… we’d best end it now.”

“Before we’ve even begun? No thank you.” Draco scooted closer so they were pressed together along their sides. “I waited a long time for this. I can put up with nosy reporters if I have to.”

“It’ll be a lot at first, but they’ll grow tired of it eventually. I hope.” Harry pulled Draco’s hand into his lap and twisted Draco’s ring around on his finger. “I’m not sure what this will be.”

“Me either. But I’ll follow your lead.”

Harry smiled. “Even though I’m sort of learning as I go?”

“Great. Yes. Me too.” Draco laced their fingers together again and kissed the back of Harry’s hand. “We can learn together.”


	9. Chapter 9

Harry’s relief that the bedroom stood empty evaporated when he realised that the common room likely had everyone in it. He didn’t know exactly how long he’d panicked and moped in the bathroom, but breakfast must surely be over and on a random Sunday with such juicy gossip to be had, everyone would be waiting for him and his reactions.

Fuck.

Draco, standing behind him at the door, rested his hand lightly on Harry’s hip and whispered, “It’s going to be all right.”

Swallowing the nervous lump in his throat, Harry opened the door and peeked out into the corridor. As expected, an excessive amount of noise drifted out of the common room. Draco’s fingers slid from his hip as they walked, and Harry wished he knew how to take hold of his hand.

“Harry!” Hermione greeted him first, with a relieved smile. She and Ron hurried to him, but stopped short of actually hugging him. “Are you all right? Better now?”

“Yeah, better.” He smiled at Draco, but he was already fading into the gathering crowd. “Much better.”

Lavender barreled through Ron and Hermione to hug Harry fiercely. “Harry, you dear, sweet thing. I can’t believe I didn’t know you were gay! That’s brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!”

“It is?”

She squished his cheeks and giggled. “Of course! You’re famous - coming out will do wonders for the gay wizarding community!”

“I didn’t know there was a gay wizarding community.” Fuck, just what he needed - more people idolizing him.

“Oh, they’ll find you now that you’re one of them.”

“Oh.” Harry didn’t need to say more, because Ollie and Daphne were there, both reaching to squeeze an arm and a hand. Their comments were lost to the babble as others pressed in close, wanting to know more about the article.

Hermione must have seen the panic building in his face because she forcefully directed Harry into an armchair, and then shuffled the furniture with a few spells so that the group could sit in a cosy circle. Everyone that wanted to could hear what Harry said, without him feeling like a lecturer over an adoring audience.

“Ginny looked pissed that someone leaked the story,” someone said over the excited murmuring.

Ron scoffed, “She’s fine now. She didn’t know Harry leaked it himself.” He gave Harry a wink, and Harry mentally sighed in relief that at least no one would know about the hurtful words she’d said.

“So it’s true then?” Harry heard, maybe from Terry?

“Er, yeah. Definitely true.” Harry managed a small smile at his gathered friends, and absolutely hated that this was his life now. Did they all have to stare at him like a zoo animal? “I thought it would be better if I told the _Prophet_ before some snooping git of a reporter made themselves a nuisance.”

“You do realise, they’re still going to be a nuisance. Maybe more so now, trying to get photos of you kissing a bloke.”

“Yeah, well, that’s a hassle for another day.”

There were words of encouragement from some, considering silences from others, but overall a cheery mood pervaded the room, now that they knew Harry had done it on purpose. One large group eventually became several smaller groups, and they drifted away to other parts of the common room. When Harry expressed reluctance at facing the Great Hall for lunch, a House Elf brought snacks, and everyone shared sandwiches, fruit, and juice in a silent bid of support.

And for the first time since school began, Harry couldn’t see the House lines at all.

Snippets of conversations met his ears, of lessons and research, of internships and possible jobs, of relationships and break-ups. And even tentative questions about the war. Sure, Seamus looked sullen and angry, but Lavender rubbed his back in absent circles as they listened to Daphne share a story that had her dabbing lightly at her eyes with a handkerchief from Ollie. Terry and Blaise were engaged in a rapid fire conversation about Arithmancy that Hermione and Lisa eagerly joined. While Tracey and Parvati whispered with matching grins, Theo and Michael exchanged few words, but Theo had always been rather reserved.

And that afternoon, when Dean and Seamus suggested a Quidditch game, Theo and Draco both joined in. Seamus scowled, but a quick word from Neville had him shaking off the bad mood. Harry walked next to Draco on the way to the pitch, a wide smile on his face. He wanted to take hold of Draco’s hand, but again didn’t know how. They needed to have a conversation about their relationship, so Harry knew what to expect. Until then, he’d keep his hands to himself and rely on the memory of their first kiss to keep his mood light.

They had enough players for a full game that almost made them late for dinner. Harry wanted to hide in the common room again, but Hermione killed that idea by saying, “You don’t want them thinking you’re scared, do you?”

All of the eighth years absent for lunch had been a lark, but only Harry missing for dinner would be pathetic. He lingered behind on the walk up to school, with Draco keeping pace and every so often brushing their fingers together.

“We should talk,” Harry said when they’d let the others get ahead of them. “About us. What we want.” He inwardly cringed at the phrasing, remembering all too well Ginny telling him the same thing.

“I want what you want. Whatever you’ll let me have,” Draco said softly. And before Harry could fully process the words, Draco brushed a kiss across his lips and entered the Great Hall. How the _fuck_ had Harry managed to miss their second kiss? Unfair! Glowing in a grumpy sort of way, Harry sat at the Gryffindor table with a blush on his cheeks.

“You look awfully smug, considering your team lost,” Hermione said, looking a little smug herself. It clearly hadn't escaped her attention that Draco had kept him company.

Harry gave a contented sigh. “Next time I’m playing seeker. Everyone else is shit at it.” Although he’d had a good time playing chaser, the snitch would always be his first love.

“Can I sit here?”

Speaking of his first love… Harry gave Ginny a tight smile. “I’d rather you didn’t.”

Ginny glanced around the Great Hall and wriggled between Harry and Dean anyway. “They’re still watching.” Neville and Parvati, sitting further down, started to glare at the shifting, until they noticed Ginny.

“I don’t care,” Harry said.

“You mean you _selectively_ care,” she said sharply. “Earlier today their opinion counted for quite a bit.” 

“Yeah, well, I’m calmer now and it’s easier to dismiss all the looky-loos when I’m in a better mood.” Harry served himself a few potatoes and a tiny slice of roast pork, not knowing if he could stomach anything with the way the conversation was headed.

“I need to apologize.”

“Yes,” he sighed. “You do. But now probably isn’t a good time.”

“Harry, I’m sorry -”

“Accepted. I’d still rather you sat somewhere else.” He didn’t know where to look. Not at his food, that had his stomach churning. Not across at Ron and Hermione, who managed to look both angry and sympathetic. Damn, but this dynamic was fucked up.

“I wasn’t finished. I’m sorry that there’s a shitload of trauma we never talked about. That there are things we don’t know and don’t understand about each other. I’m sorry that even though I love you - loved you?” Her voice cracked. “I don’t know. I - I’m just so sorry for using the things I _do_ know to hurt you when I was feeling hurt. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you. Not when you were vulnerable. And not when I know how to cut so deep. Even if… I was bleeding out too. I’m sorry. And that’s what I wanted to say.”

Their end of the table sat in silence for a moment, until Harry said quietly, “What did he do? Blaise... What did he do that was so horrible - so much more horrible than everything else we were force fed last year? What about him cuts you so deep you can’t accept he might be my friend now?”

“Harry,” she said, so quietly he almost didn’t hear it. Her eyes, honey-gold with tears again, met his and his anger started to thaw. 

“Was it so bad?”

“I can’t. Not here. Not now.” She pressed her lips together and looked at Ron and Hermione, at Dean on her other side, and the other eighth years shamelessly eavesdropping. “I’m sorry. And I know that isn’t worth anything. But… it’s all I have.”

“Go flying with me,” Harry said on impulse. “Tomorrow? After lessons. So we can have a real conversation.”

She nodded jerkily. “Yeah, okay.” She tentatively leaned in and he let her kiss his cheek. “Goodnight.” She gave their corner a little wave and moved down the table to where most of the Gryffindor Quidditch team had gathered.

“Well… that fucking hurt,” Harry said to break the ice. “Both of us.”

“It’s like… I _want_ to say she’s kind of a bitch,” Seamus said, ignoring Ron’s scowl, “except that I know she suffered like hell last year so… I also feel sorry for her.” He frowned at Neville, “Do you think this is about Filch’s office?”

Neville shook his head. “I doubt it? That was hardly anything, compared to some of the other punishments we were dealt.”

“We were all dealt shit last year,” Harry said, frustrated by all of it. “And even if I don’t want her for mine anymore, I still… want her to get better. Want all of us to get better.”

“Unfortunately,” Hermione said softly, “we’re going to have these flare-ups for a long time. Possibly forever.”

“Thank you, Little Miss Sunshine, for that lovely imagery,” Ron finally said. He dropped his fork with a sigh. “All this has put me off dinner.”

“You? Off your feed?” Seamus scoffed, shaking his head. “Impossible.”

“It’s weird. My best mate, my sister. This horrible break-up. Harry’s coming out. Whatever shit Ginny’s got going on that she won’t talk about.” He sighed and leaned on Hermione’s shoulder. “She’s always been good at pushing that uncomfortable shit away.”

Hermione stroked Ron’s hair and gave him a kiss on the head. “Maybe this whole thing forcing it into the open will be good for everyone.”

“Painful first though.” Ron sighed and stuffed his mouth full of potatoes. “I’m gonna need loads of cake to fix this up.”

Across the Great Hall, Draco and Blaise had their heads bent close, whispering frantically. Did either of them notice Ginny sitting with Harry? Or were they talking about Harry and Draco’s new relationship? How soon could they go public with it? And would that mean Harry could sit next to Draco during meals? Neville and Seamus laughed about something, bringing Harry’s attention to the fact that Neville rarely ate with Hannah. Interhouse dating was difficult, he thought with a sigh.

After the lemon tarts that had Ron whining about chocolate cake, Harry said his goodbyes and hurried to meet Draco and Blaise on their way out of the Great Hall. He smiled at Draco, unable to stop thinking about their kiss earlier. How soon could they do that again? Harry nodded absently at Blaise - something about flying tomorrow - and then finally dragged Draco away.

Alone at last!

Harry barely registered the small room, only enough to note its emptiness, before pulling Draco in by the hips. “I missed you. At dinner.”

“Did you?” Draco asked. He rubbed their noses together and nipped at Harry’s lips. “I missed you too.”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about our kiss. I want another one.”

Harry didn’t think he’d be able to press his body close enough to Draco’s. Their first kisses, while wonderful, had been woefully short. This time, Harry wanted to take his time. Each slide of Draco’s tongue drove his heart rate higher until Harry thought he could float away like a flitterby, but for the hands gripping his hips possessively. His body lightened and opened, much like it did when he flew.

That glorious rush burst inside him, wild and hot. And yet familiar in a way. Like when he dated Ginny the first time, only not like that at all. This was his. All his, and all new. Shivering lightly, he buried his face in Draco’s neck and hugged him tighter.

“Harry,” Draco whispered into his hair. “Is this all right?”

“Yes. Fuck, yes. It’s… it feels so…”

“Tell me. What does it feel like?”

“It feels - wonderful. And like... it’s mine.” Harry laughed nervously. “I know that sounds daft but… this is new for me and… I like it.”

Silver eyes, shining in the dim light of the room, met his briefly before those luscious lips descended once again. Now it was Harry’s turn to moan as Draco pressed him against the wall. Harry’s fingers carded through Draco’s hair, distantly admiring the soft strands. 

“Oh fuck,” Draco groaned. “Stop, I can't do this.”

“You can't?” Harry asked shakily. Had this all been a horrible ploy of some kind?

“Yes,” Draco whined, resting his head against Harry’s. “Damn it…” He stepped back and ran his hands through his hair, smoothing it out. “Harry… I was talking to Blaise…”

“Blaise.” 

“Yes. He’s got some things to tell you and then… then you can decide about us.”

Harry’s brain raced through a confusing jumble of circumstances that might lead to such a statement and came up utterly blank. “What?”

“It’s - last year - I told him he needed to talk to you about it first. Before anything can happen between us.”

"So you do _want_ there to be an us?"

"Yes! Absolutely!" Draco said on an exhale, his eyes trained on Harry’s lips. “Definitely.”

Harry sighed in relief. He'd just misunderstood. “Good. Okay. Did you sleep with Blaise?”

Draco’s eyes widened comically. “No! What - no! I’ve never… done much of anything with another boy.” 

A mental explosion of confetti helpfully tagged _you’re the first_ to the end of that statement, keeping Harry from organising his thoughts.

“So… but… is this…” Harry tried to think about Ginny, her reaction to Blaise, and her odd apology at dinner. “Is this about Ginny?”

“I told him to talk to you about it. It’s not really my place to say… Last year was so complicated for all of us, you know. And I can’t build something with you if it’s hovering like a dementor.”

“Okay. Okay, tomorrow with Blaise. And then… we can talk about us?”

“If you still want to. Yes. Absolutely.”

Harry smiled. “I’ll still want to.” He reached out and tucked Draco’s hair behind his ear. “This is - surreal. But in the best way.”

Draco took Harry’s hand and kissed his palm. “Want to walk back with me and pretend we weren’t just making out in a - what is this room?”

“Just an empty room.” Harry looked around and shrugged. “I guess the castle’s big enough they’ve got empty spaces. Not everything can be a classroom or storage space. This would make a good study room, if we added a desk or something.”

“Or we could add a sofa to snog on.”

“Yeah, that one’s better,” Harry grinned. He squeezed Draco’s hand and let it go. “All right. Back to the common room.” He bit his lip. “I’m not going to be able to keep the dumb grin off my face.”

“Good,” Draco replied with a grin of his own.

Thankfully no one commented on it. And Harry went to sleep that night with the sweetest dreams he’d had in a long while.

\--------

By the time Harry woke in the morning, Blaise had already acquired a breakfast they could eat on the way to the pitch and collected their flying gear. 

“Eager, aren’t you?” Harry said through a yawn. 

“Not really, but we’ve got to be done by ten for Defence so…”

“Are we going to need,” he checked his watch quickly, “three hours to talk about whatever this is?”

“I sure as fuck hope not.” But the shifty-eyed frown didn’t reassure Harry. He took the bundle of food with a shrug and headed for the Quidditch pitch. When they arrived, full of toast, bacon, and apples, Harry asked, “Flying first or talking?”

“Talk first. If I delay this any longer I’ll chicken out.” Blaise ducked under the stands and pulled a blanket from Harry’s Quidditch bag. He spread it out and layered a warming charm over it for them both.

Harry made himself comfortable and looked expectantly at Blaise. “So… what happened last year?”

“All right,” Blaise huffed. “Right. Okay. So… I’m not sure where to start.”

“It’s okay,” Harry said, forcing a calm he didn’t really feel. The look on Blaise’s face made Harry’s anxiety spike. “Take your time. I know last year was… difficult for everyone.”

“Yes. Difficult. It was all so confusing and there was no way to know who to trust. So many students on one side or the other. Some secretly rebelling or worse, only pretending to.”

“Which were you?”

Blaise shrugged. “I don’t really care about muggles. They’re not bothering us so let them live their lives. But I _do_ care about my friends, this castle, the magical world. Voldemort was never going to be satisfied until the whole world burned. Anyone could see that.”

“What a fucking lunatic.”

“Agreed.” Blaise flashed a grin, there and gone. “We deserved safety. At the school. Especially those little kids too inexperienced to defend themselves. Sometimes I had information of use to the rebellion. And I - passed it on. To Ginny.”

Harry knew he could be oblivious sometimes. Perhaps oblivious wasn’t the right word. Was there a word for being physically unable to focus on every tidbit of information his brain collected? He had to ignore it or he would surely go mad from being on high alert all the time. But sometimes those pieces snapped together into a truth so startling it overwhelmed him.

“You slept with Ginny,” he said as the shock hit him. Magic surged through him at this certainty and he leapt to his feet with little sparks dancing on his fingertips. 

Blaise also jumped to his feet, pulling his wand in reflex. He didn't defend himself, but threw his wand to the blanket with a defeated sigh. 

“You did. And Draco knew about it. Oh fuck.” Harry shook out his hands, then tangled them in his hair and started to walk a wide circle. “Fuck.” He huffed a breath and tried to harness the prickly wave of adrenaline and magic. “Okay. Okay, it’s fine.” Blaise opened his mouth but Harry held a hand out. “Don’t. It’s fine but I need a minute. That was - unexpected.”

Ginny slept with _Blaise_? Fuck, he didn’t even know what to think about it. They hated each other. Or maybe it was just Ginny that hated Blaise. “Oh fuck, please tell me it was voluntary.”

Blaise’s eyes bugged out, “Of course it was voluntary! How can you even ask that? And do you honestly think she’d let me live if it wasn’t?”

“Of course. I’m sorry, I’m - this is not what I expected. Just… let me… think…” Harry hadn’t cared about some random bloke and a distant memory, but now that he knew it was _Blaise_ … Blaise had tried to _help_ him. To get ready for dates and fix his hair. Encouraged him to keep pursuing her. What the fuck?

“Blaise - is that - why you helped me all the time? Guilt? I don’t understand.”

“She loves you. And I - I love _her_. I want her to be happy.” He shoved his hands into his cloak pockets with a sad smile. “Even if it’s not with me.”

“That doesn’t make any sense!” Harry yelled. “How can you push me at her while wanting her for yourself? Why aren’t you fighting for her?”

“I _tried_! Don’t you think I tried? But I couldn’t live up to the _Great Harry Potter_. But then, neither could you so… turns out that’s on her and not us.”

“How did this even happen?” Harry collapsed onto the blanket, the fight draining away in the wake of his confusion. Nothing felt real anymore.

“I don’t know.” With slow, careful movemements, Blaise sat across from him. “Everything was in a jumble and emotions ran high all the time and…”

“And it just happened?” Harry snorted. “Or so everyone always says. What does that even mean? How do you accidentally fuck someone? Never mind, don’t answer that. It doesn’t matter how it happened. It’s over now. Is that why she hexed you?”

Blaise rubbed his nose lightly. “Er… yeah. Apparently no hope with you still doesn’t get me in with a chance.”

“What happened? At the end. To burn that bridge so badly.” 

“Well…” Blaise gave him a rakish smile and quirked an eyebrow. “There was danger and intrigue and sneaking around and…” He pressed his lips together and shook his head. “And then, the Death Eaters threatened my mother.”

“Your mother? Why?”

“To keep me in line, of course. They suspected me and it was either tell them what I knew or else. And I didn’t really have much of a choice.”

Harry could easily imagine it. Amycus Carrow, drunk on his own power, giving Blaise an ugly smile and the ‘choice’ of keeping either Ginny _or_ his mother safe. His knee-jerk reaction was to say everyone had a choice. But he knew firsthand how some choices were not choices at all. “No, it doesn’t sound like you did,” he said quietly.

“Ginny is - a brilliant witch. Powerful, clever, resourceful,” Blaise explained anyway. “Harry, my mother can’t even summon the hat from her own head. I had to tell them. Ginny was caught with one of her dorm mates in Filch’s office, retrieving a box of special Wheezes that had been confiscated. And the Carrows made me dole out their punishment.”

“Cruciatus?” Harry asked hoarsely.

“Thankfully no. But… there’s no end to the hexes that can hurt a person, all within the realm of legal spells. That was the end of us. One month later, she went home for the Easter holiday and never came back. Not until the final battle.”

“Fuck, Blaise. I don’t know what to do with this information.” Harry stood to pace again. The chaos in his head made him grimace. Blaise and Ginny. Ginny and Blaise. And now Ginny didn’t want either of them anymore. No… she didn’t _want_ Blaise but _couldn’t have_ Harry. No wonder her temper exploded on a hair trigger these days.

“You don’t have to do anything. I just wanted you to know. Well, Draco wanted you to know so he wouldn’t have to lie or hide anything from you.”

“Yeah, all right,” Harry said slowly, his mind still racing with it all. “You really love her?”

“I didn’t notice it right away. She said I was just a convenient way to blow off steam and I guess I saw her the same way. But when she left school… I couldn’t stop thinking about her. It consumed all my thoughts. Everything reminded me of her and I - I wanted… I wanted to do better, to meet her expectations. Impossible as they were.”

Harry knew that feeling. All those nights spent staring at the Marauder's Map, watching Ginny’s dot move about the castle, and missing the flowery scent of her. How he’d hoped for a perfect ending for them both. 

Back when he shared his body with another soul.

“I couldn’t meet her expectations either,” Harry said softly. “It wasn’t really me she wanted.”

“No, I don’t think you were. She wanted an ideal, a perfect hero. I thought if she got to know you again, without all the pressures of war, she’d see _you_ and learn to love that. But I guess not.”

“Plus, you know… I’m gay as fuck.”

Blaise snorted. “How can you be joking right now?”

“It’s that or fall apart so…” Harry shrugged and sat down again. “I’m glad you told me. Even if nothing comes of it.”

“I don’t think she’ll be able to forgive me. Not for the hexes, or for giving myself to the Carrows. Not even for choosing my mother over her. And I suppose I’m okay with that now. I just want her to be happy. She deserves it.”

“I don’t think she knows what’s going to make her happy. She wants to fly professionally but after that… Give it some time. Maybe it’ll be you again one day.”

“I doubt it. Although maybe if she met my mum she’d understand.” Blaise laughed to himself. “One time she bought an elaborate dress robe covered in about a thousand streeler shells -”

“Don’t those snails make a poisonous slime?”

Blaise clapped his hands with a giddy smile and falsetto voice, “Yes, but they’re so _colorful_!” He rolled his eyes. “The shells weren’t cleaned well enough and there was enough residue left to give her this horrible streaking rash. I got her to St Mungo’s before the damage was permanent. I was eight.”

“Wow.” He purposefully did not think about his own childhood and the way he, too, had grown up too soon. 

“I know. It’s rough when she’s between husbands.” Blaise frowned at his shoes. “I bet Ginny never has to go to St Mungo’s for shit like that.”

“Ginny _does_ have good self-preservation skills. You know, I don’t think she’s ever gotten caught in an accidental Wheeze from Fred and George.”

“Because she’s fucking brilliant. Unfortunately she’s brilliant enough to know she doesn’t need me. Which is kind of a turn-on.” He winked at Harry with a wide smile back in place.

Harry’s heart skipped a beat. “Blaise, you absolute fucker.” He pushed Blaise away playfully. “Get that gorgeous smile away from me, I’m taken.”

“My loss,” he lamented, clutching his chest in mock sorrow. “So you’re going to stick with Draco, then?”

“Yes of course, why wouldn’t I?”

“You two are an odd pairing for certain. And - he was afraid you’d be angry with both of us for not telling you sooner. We both felt weird about it… but didn’t want to cause trouble between you and Ginny for no reason.”

“She already told me she slept with someone else. More than one, actually,” he said, darting a nervous glance at Blaise. “But we weren’t together then. We hadn’t promised each other to wait or anything so… I told her it didn’t matter.”

“You didn’t ask who?” Blaise’s wide eyes made Harry feel stupid for not caring about it more.

“Why? It was in the past and we were starting over. Bringing it up would just make her feel bad.” And now in hindsight, he recognised a distinct lack of possessiveness for the woman he had no sexual interest in. 

A feeling Blaise clearly did not share. Still gaping in disbelief, Blaise said, “You are one noble bastard. No wonder she fell in love with you.”

“She wasn’t in love with me, Blaise.”

“No, I don’t think she was.” After a beat of silence, Blaise asked, “So you don’t know who else she was with?”

Harry almost laughed, but held it in so as not to hurt his feelings. “Nope, sorry.”

“Hm. I suppose you’re right and it doesn’t matter.” He leaned in conspiratorially, despite their isolation. “He probably failed her tests too.”

“Harsh words,” Harry grinned.

“They match my broken heart. We should find him. Start a club or something.”

That sparked a laugh he didn’t bother holding back. “That’s definitely the way to regain her affections.”

“Perhaps.” Blaise stood, so Harry did too. “You ready to head back? I’m not really up for flying right now.”

“I am. It helps clear my head.” Harry pointed his wand at the blanket and it folded itself into a neat square. “I’m not sure what I’ll say to Ginny later.”

Blaise took the blanket and stuffed it into the Quidditch bag. He sighed. “Thanks Harry, for listening. And for not hexing me.”

“Thanks for letting me know. For Draco’s sake. Can you tell him I’ll meet up with him later?”

Blaise nodded and walked up the path to school. Harry flew slow, wide circles around the pitch while everything tumbled around his brain. He examined himself for anger or jealousy, but found only sorrow. He ached on Ginny’s behalf, for the fear and uncertainty of last year, and for a potential love lost. It must have been confusing for her to start developing feelings for Blaise while still in love with Harry. Or what she thought was Harry.

He flew in smaller, faster circles. What did he want to say to her? What did she need to hear? Neither of them were particularly good at these sorts of conversations and it was bound to be painful. But, like Blaise, he wanted Ginny to be happy. Would she be happy with Blaise? At the very least, she should find peace with their time together and their bad break. Could he help her ease those memories?

Another circle, this one too sharp. He overbalanced and spiraled towards the ground. He shot up into the air and flew one more full lap before turning back to the castle. Draco would be brewing with Theo, so Harry went to the classroom to see what kind of Defence practice the others were working on before the lesson started.

Draco followed Theo into the classroom just minutes before ten o’clock, his face nervously pinched. But Harry gave him a welcoming smile and patted the open space on the love seat next to him. Draco looked uncertain for a minute, but Blaise nodded and pushed him in Harry’s direction.

“We’re okay, then?” Draco whispered. “Blaise said so but I thought he might be trying to put a positive spin on things.”

“We’re good. We’ll talk after class, yeah?”

Of course the lesson dragged on forever. Sometimes the students had time to chat between spells and demonstrations, but not today. Professor Mason worked them through a long review of previously learned spells and laid out his own plan for getting them to NEWT level by June. As if Hermione and Terry hadn’t already papered various schedules over the walls of the very classroom they sat in.

At long last, Harry followed Draco out of the classroom and asked, “Can I sit with you? At lunch?”

“People will talk,” Draco responded, darting a glance around the hallway. “Especially after the _Prophet_ article.”

“I don’t care. Do you?” Harry frowned. “Wait - are you even out to anyone yet? Do your parents know?” They had the potential to fuck things up royally for Harry.

“My mother knows I’m gay. She doesn't know I’m… almost in a relationship with you.”

Harry stored away the mention of Narcissa but not Lucius, and grinned at Draco’s shy smile. “Only almost?” 

“It feels weird calling you my boyfriend. It’s new and… weird. But in a good way. Exciting.” His grey eyes had a luminescent shine that made Harry’s heart skip a beat. And then another when Draco bit his lip with another glance around. 

Harry couldn’t wait until it was his turn to bite that lip. “Good. I feel the same. Weird but excited.”

“Let’s talk. After dinner? I’ll owl Mum tonight, so she’s not taken by surprise if there’s any gossip. And then… tomorrow. Whatever you want. Tomorrow.”

“Yeah, okay,” he said with a delicious thrill when Draco brushed their fingers together before hurrying off to catch up with Blaise and Theo.

 _Another_ deep conversation. _Hurray_ , Harry thought with a mental eye roll. At least this one would be fun and likely end with sweet kisses. 

He abandoned his Transfiguration revising earlier than he should have and returned to the pitch to wait for Ginny. From the top of the Gryffindor stands he had a good view of her walk from school to the pitch, with her broom on her shoulder. He waved, but when that didn’t seem to catch her attention, he shot sparks from his wand. She waved back and jumped on her broom to meet him.

“Ready to fly?” she asked, hovering easily.

“Always.”

He’d built up a lot of stamina for flying, between his regular flights with friends and the work Madam Hooch had him doing, so he managed just fine despite the lengthy flight from earlier. Ginny kept pace with him and they ran through familiar drills for half an hour before she pulled a practice snitch from her pocket. The wings were a little crumpled on one side but it shook itself awake and seemed ready for action. After they each caught it once, Harry called it a tie and directed his broom back to the stands for a break.

“I can’t wait for spring,” he said as he collapsed across the bench, “so I can fly without freezing my arse off.” He rummaged in his pockets for something to transfigure into a cup and of course came up empty. 

Ginny moved to the bench above them and leaned over the top rail to summon a pebble from the ground. She transfigured it into a chunky grey mug and handed it to him. “Doesn’t your flying jacket have warming charms?”

“They’re wearing off. Again. I need help getting them to stick better.” Harry chugged the water while his limbs adjusted to solid ground again. He sat next to her, perhaps a little closer than necessary. “Make it warmer here. It’s hard to breathe.”

“Yes, your majesty,” she said with a grin. A swirl of her wand had Harry groaning at the warm air easing the cold sting from his body.

He sighed, “You’re the best at warming charms.”

“You mean better than you.” She kicked at his feet playfully. “Which isn’t hard, by the way.”

“Hey! I have excellent skills in other areas!”

“At _expelliarmus_ , you mean?” She pressed her lips together, with a playful seriousness.

“That… saved our lives, I’ll have you know,” Harry said, sticking his tongue out at her.

“I know.” Her smile softened. “I was there.”

“Ah… memories…” He put an arm around her waist and sighed happily when she leaned into him. Hopefully the flying and playful banter had bolstered her courage for what was to come. Maybe knowing he already knew would help. “Blaise told me. About the two of you.”

“Oh.” He felt her body stiffen, but she kept her head on his shoulder. “What did he say?”

“He said he loves you.” Ginny scoffed and pulled away but Harry continued before she could interrupt. “He said he had to choose between you and his mum and he chose her.”

“Chose her,” Ginny mumbled. “What bullshit.”

“Why don’t you tell me then? What happened?”

She stayed quiet for a long time, staring out over the pitch. “It was only a few times. Nothing really. Nothing that mattered anyway.” She wrapped her arms around her waist and sighed. “I told myself it was an exchange. He gave me valuable information and I gave him…”

“But it was more than that, wasn’t it?” he asked softly.

“I didn’t want it to be.” Ginny rubbed at her face and sniffed. “Fred and George had sent us some things that might be helpful and it all got confiscated. I was caught with Emma trying to get it back.” She rested her head in her hands with a sigh. “Thanks to Blaise we spent the night in the infirmary.”

Harry swallowed heavily. "That bad?"

"Well… not really. Madam Pomfrey sometimes kept us longer for no reason. It was safe there. But Blaise was a fucking prick, throwing me to the Carrows like that.

“He - he said his mum -”

“Yes, he tried to tell me too.” She scowled and her voice took on a hard edge. “His poor mum and her pampered life. How she couldn’t defend herself. _Bollocks_ ,” she spat. “All that money she’s got and she can’t hire help?” 

“I don’t think it was as simple as that.”

Ginny stood to pace the narrow aisle between benches. “We were fighting a war! How could he side with them? You know, they tried that same shit with Neville’s Gran and we didn’t see either of them rolling over and taking it.”

“Well, no… but Blaise isn’t Neville and -”

“That’s for damn sure! Neville would never have given them anything to save Augusta! And she wouldn’t have wanted him to!”

“But Blaise isn’t Neville,” Harry said again, “and he didn’t have the same choices -” Inwardly he winced at his wording. 

“We all had the same choices, Harry!” Ginny said, her words trembling with anger. “Fight for the good of all, or let evil take hold. Those were the choices. And he chose wrong.”

“Gin, he’s been taking care of his mother his entire life. He can’t just stop all of a sudden. If she’d died… he’d spend the rest of his life blaming himself. You can’t ask that of him. It’s not fair.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and snarled, “War isn’t fair. If it was, I wouldn’t have lost a brother, or have you forgotten?”

The familiar wave of pain rolled through Harry, but softer this time. After nearly a year, those memories didn’t cut so deep. “Of course I haven’t forgotten. And it still hurts. But Gin… you have other brothers.”

Her face darkened and for one second, Harry thought she would pull her wand on him. “They’re not fucking _interchangeable_ , Harry!”

“No, Gin… that’s not what I meant.” His brain scrambled to put words to his thoughts before she sent him tumbling down the stands to crash on the pitch below. “It’s - it’s just… there’s a reason you don’t come to me or Hermione when you’re missing Fred, why you turn to Ron and to George. Because… because no matter how much Hermione and I miss Fred, it’s - it’s nothing like Ron and George do.”

He could see the grief taking hold of her in the way her shoulders drooped and her eyes shone. But he kept on anyway. “They knew him like you knew him and - they can reminisce and offer comfort. Their pain is just as sharp as yours, no matter how much time passes. But Blaise… he only has his mum. And once she’s gone… he’s going to be all alone with no one to share that pain and those memories.”

Harry’s nervous anger melted away, replaced by the sadness he’d grown all too familiar with last summer. Although many people had lost loved ones, Harry had felt isolated in his grief. Everyone he knew took part in the war in one way or another, yet his role had been a unique one that left him set apart from everyone else. If not for Ron and Hermione, and their persistent invasion of his private thoughts to draw him out, he would have drowned in it. 

And he could see the same suffering in Ginny, that lonesome, lost look as though she carried the weight of the world all on her own. As tears started to run down her cheeks, it hit him that he’d so rarely seen her cry before the war. But her denial of grief and loss continued to creep up on her until the wave of it finally spilled out. How much longer did she think she could contain it?

He held out his arms for her and she pressed herself against him, burying her face in his chest. “I’m sorry that you are hurting,” he whispered against her hair, “and I wish I could fix it for you, but you know I can’t. All I can say is he’s sorry, Ginny. And even if you can’t forgive him yet, you can… maybe try and understand him a little?”

Ginny gave a bitter laugh and sat heavily on the bench. She wiped her face on her sleeve and tugged her braid over her shoulder, gripping it like a lifeline. “The first time we were together, I told myself it was an accident. Just an angry way to purge the adrenaline after another near miss.”

He sat next to her, moving slowly so as not to startle her into bottling it up again. She took his hand and he gave her an encouraging nod. 

“But then it happened again and I - I hated myself for - there wasn’t a _reason_ , we just… It just happened and I let it and I -” She sniffed and covered her face. “Harry, fuck… I didn’t think of you at all until later and I felt so guilty and confused and Blaise… He made me feel like everything was going to be okay. That we could win. Could survive.”

“With that wicked grin of his,” Harry said, trying to cheer her. He never knew what to do with tears.

She gave a wet laugh and wiped her face. “I was so proud of you, you know. On the run, on your mysterious mission. But you were gone and I felt so lonely until he came along and somewhere in there I - I don’t think I fell in love? But it got messy and then Amycus had him punish me... It wasn’t just the hexes, it was that… he could abandon everything so easily. It felt like when _you_ left me. And I hated that I was so easy to throw away. Again.”

Harry’s stomach twisted in guilt. “Gin, you know I didn’t - I wasn’t throwing you away. I was so scared for you and I didn’t know what was going to happen. I thought you’d be safer without me.”

She plucked at her sleeve, twisting the fabric around her finger. “It’s funny,” she said softly, “that difference in opinion, yeah?” Her eyes scanned the field, avoiding his eye. “You left me to keep me safe, as if I was too weak to fight alongside you. And Blaise… he left me because I was strong enough to stand on my own, without him. So which is it, am I weak or strong?” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter, because you both left me.”

“Ginny,” Harry said softly, “I’m sorry.” He started to reach for her but she stood abruptly, summoning her broom with a flick of her wand. 

“I can’t do this anymore. Not right now.”

“But Ginny,” he said, hoping to keep her talking for a little longer. It figured she would leave, just when they got to the heart of things.

“I’m sorry but - it’s too much. Please just…” She turned pleading eyes on him. “Please don’t tell him. What I said.”

“He’s going to ask. You know he will. What should I say?”

She twisted the broom handle in her hands, staring down at nothing. “I don’t know,” she said after a long pause. “But I know I don’t want to talk to him.”

“Right, okay. I’ll - think of something.”

She gave him a quick hug and said, “Thanks… for listening.”

“Any time. It helped - me and Ron - it helped that Hermione kept us talking about all those things so they didn’t fester and take root. I’m happy to listen anytime you need it.”

“The mind healer we saw last summer said the same. But some things were too hard to talk about. They still are.”

Especially if no one knew anything about it. At least now she had Harry to share those things with and didn’t have to carry it alone. Assuming she ever let herself open up again. “And now? Is it easier now?”

“Not really,” she said, and Harry’s face fell. She sighed at him. “Maybe. I don’t know. It’s so much and… I’m not ready to talk to him.”

“That’s okay. I’ll let him know that, if nothing else.”

They went their separate ways after that. Ginny to fly around the pitch, and Harry back to school. The dinner hour loomed, and Harry didn’t know if he could handle talking to anyone else about anything at all today. But then he sent a patronus to Ron and Hermione, saying he’d rather stay in bed than go to dinner, and Draco magically appeared with a covered tray and a hopeful smile.

And it turned out Harry _did_ have the energy for someone else. A very specific someone else. He closed the curtains around the bed and warded them in case Blaise or Ernie came back from dinner. “A secret picnic!” Harry’s eyes lit up at the unexpected treat. “How fun!”

Draco returned his smile. “I didn’t want you to miss dinner. And - I wanted to be sure you were all right. After Blaise…”

“Yeah, no it’s fine! Really. Ginny had already told me she’d been with someone else and I get why he kept it quiet. It’s fine. Over with. Well, over for me. I think she’s going to be working through things for a while.”

“Do you think she’ll take him back?” Draco lifted the cover on the tray, revealing several slices of pork, roasted butternut squash, and a large salad.

“Not now, no. But once she’s had time… I don’t know. Maybe not even then, but it’s too soon to tell.”

He handed Harry a spare plate and a fork. “Really… if you met his mother you’d understand.”

Harry was surprised by a spark of annoyance at those words, considering he’d said nearly the same thing to Ginny himself. Caring for both people in the broken relationship made his own position muddy. He felt sorry for Blaise, for feeling trapped between his mother and his sweetheart. And he felt sorry for Ginny, for feeling abandoned by those that loved her - himself included. 

Now everyone wanted to assign blame, while sidestepping it themselves. They had their reasons for behaving as they did, and things probably couldn’t have happened any differently. For a brief moment, he wondered what would have happened with him and Ginny, if she’d come on the horcrux hunt. That would have been awful for them now.

“Yeah, but it’s not really about his mother,” he finally sighed. He stabbed a piece of pork and dropped it on his plate. “Actually, I think I’m partially to blame. It’s tied up in when we broke up in sixth year. And the final battle. Just - people leaving her… Me, Blaise, probably Fred too, although she won’t admit it. She just needs more time.”

“Well we’ve got plenty of that. Trapped in this school for another few months, and then the long years that follow. We’re too young to be dealing with this depressing level of shit.”

Harry scooped squash onto his plate. “I can’t wait until school ends and I can leave it all behind. I’m taking the first international portkey out of London.”

Draco paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. “You’re leaving England?”

“Oh, erm… probably?” Shit, what was he supposed to say to his almost-boyfriend about the non-existent plans he’d made to leave England as soon as possible? “I don’t know. I just want to travel. See new places. Get away from all the eyes for a while.”

“That sounds like fun,” Draco said in an upbeat tone, as if a weird tension bubble hadn’t just sprung up around them.

“It’s not - I don’t really have plans or anything…”

Draco gave him a soft smile. “It’s okay if you’ve made plans without me, Harry. We’ve not even really begun yet, we don’t have to plan our holidays together.”

“No, yeah, I know.” He stabbed at pieces of squash. “I mean, we’ve at least sort of begun, right?”

Draco’s wicked smile warmed Harry right down to his toes. “Absolutely.”

Harry downed his food as quickly as he could without choking and set his plate back on the tray. Draco, eating much more neatly and slowly, put his half finished plate on the tray and set the whole thing on the floor by Harry’s bed.

“You don’t have to - we can wait until you’re done eating,” Harry said, but his voice had gone a little breathy with Draco crawling across the bed towards him.

“I’ve been thinking about kissing you all day.”

“Oh thank fuck,” Harry groaned as Draco’s lips met his. He’d worried this conversation was going to be an _actual_ conversation.

But no, Draco knelt across his lap, gently running his hands along Harry’s jaw while kissing him slowly and thoroughly. Harry’s head began to buzz delightfully. Then Draco whispered, “I can’t believe I’m kissing you.”

Harry swallowed heavily, “Because I’m Harry Potter?”

“Yes,” Draco said, running his lips across Harry’s jaw to nip at his ear, not registering the way Harry stiffened in shock. “Everyone here is so fucking _straight_. I couldn’t even imagine finding another boy to kiss, and now look - I got the prettiest one of them all.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said curtly, leaning away from Draco’s questing hands. “Did you just say I’m the only available warm body, and then call me _pretty_?”

Draco frowned, “I already don’t remember what I said.” He smiled and reached for Harry. “But you have to admit, you are very, very pretty.”

Harry smacked his hands away. “I’m _handsome_ , I’ll have you know,” he said indignantly, wriggling out from under Draco.

“No, with that emerald green, and those mile-long lashes - you’re definitely pretty.”

Harry scowled from the foot of his bed. “Draco, you just said you’re here because you couldn’t find another boy to kiss.”

Draco shrugged, “Even if that’s what I _said_ , that’s not what I _meant_.” And Harry had to admit, Draco looked rather confused at the moment. “It’s just really hard to focus while kissing a pretty boy.”

“Stop calling me pretty!” Harry crossed his arms. “What is this? Are you here because I’m famous? Or because I’m literally the only gay boy you know? Or because I’m _handsome_?”

“First of all, I don’t really care that you’re famous. You seem to want a quiet life, and I agree with that sentiment wholeheartedly, and that’s what’s important to me.”

Harry’s nerves began to calm at that. Maybe he’d misunderstood.

“And two, I know at least four other gay boys that are not up to my standards, plus two I suspect but definitely have no interest in. There have been several boys I might have dated, but they were annoyingly straight and thus unavailable for kissing.”

Harry relaxed his shoulders and gave Draco a tentative smile. “Oh, well… that’s nice, then that you -”

“And three, your eyes came directly from some kind of gorgeous manga.”

“What the fuck is manga?” Harry tried to scowl again, but Draco was already climbing into his lap and his body didn’t care that his brain might still have objections.

Draco kissed him lightly on the lips. “It’s a Japanese art form. Like a graphic novel.” 

As Draco dragged his lips along Harry’s jaw, Harry stuttered out, “What’s a graphic novel? You know what, it doesn’t matter. I’m not pretty.”

Instead of arguing the point, Draco pushed Harry back on the bed and claimed his mouth in a kiss that made Harry forget all his possible objections. He let himself float away in a fog of desire, reveling in the feel of soft lips on his, and the first brushes of Draco’s tongue. 

Draco kept his hands strictly above the waist, over Harry’s clothes, and he wanted to be grateful for such gentlemanly behavior, while also cursing the layers between them. _Knowing_ they should take things slow was a lot easier than _actually_ taking things slow. Harry struggled to remind himself that all of these new sensations were his to savour at will. He had a boyfriend now and could kiss him at any time. But his erection didn’t listen, throbbing insistently in his pants.

“It’s starting to hurt,” Harry whispered, nuzzling into Draco’s neck. 

Draco’s hand rested on Harry’s hip and it was _so close_ to where Harry really wanted it, but then he sighed, “I know. Me too.”

“Remind me why taking it slow is a better idea.”

“I can’t remember. But it probably is.”

Harry blew raspberries on Draco’s neck, just to hear him squeal. “Fine,” he said, laughing and pulling Draco back in to snuggle. “We’ll be responsible young men, even if we can’t remember why.”

Curling up against another body made Harry happy enough to hum a contented sight. Every so often, Draco kissed his cheek or lips, ran his fingers through Harry’s hair, shifted his legs so they rubbed against Harry’s.

“This is nice,” Harry whispered. “Isn’t it?”

“Better than.” Draco kissed him lightly. “How long do you think I can stay here?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Harry hugged him tight, and pressed his face into Draco’s chest with a groan. “No matter when you leave, there’ll be someone outside to report on it. Are you sure you want to be involved with me?”

“Mm, absolutely. I’ll start a scrapbook of newspaper clippings to show our kids one day.” Harry giggled and tickled Draco, who squealed in outrage again. “Stop it or I’m leaving now!”

“Okay, okay,” Harry said quickly, rubbing a soothing hand up and down Draco’s back. “I don’t want to go out there and have everyone looking at me with that ‘did you just fuck?’ look on their faces.”

“Checking out our swollen lips.”

“And possible love bites.”

“We should heal all that and then glamour on tear streaks or a black eye or something. To really set them wondering.”

Harry ran his fingers across Draco’s lips. “I like seeing your lips all kiss-swollen. I want them to look like that all the time.”

“I’ll get us some fancy lip balm to prevent chapping.”

“Sounds perfect.” 

Harry rested his head on Draco’s chest and let the quiet thump of his heart drown everything else out.


	10. Chapter 10

Harry jolted awake the next morning with a single thought blasting through his mind.

He had a boyfriend.

A _boyfriend_.

Giddy with excitement for the day to come, he threw off his covers and hurriedly found his clothes. He wanted to spend as much time as possible with Draco today. It would mean rearranging their schedules a little, which Harry didn’t mind at all. 

But then he left his bed and was slammed with all the _other_ things that happened yesterday. In the bed across from him, Blaise threw the book he’d been reading to his bedside table as if he’d been waiting for Harry to get up.

“Morning, Blaise,” Harry said, edging towards the bathroom. He did _not_ want to start his day discussing the survivor guilt of his ex-girlfriend with her ex-fuckbuddy.

“Good morning. Did you sleep well?” Blaise asked.

No use trying to hide his grin. “Er, yeah. Draco and I -”

Blaise cut him off, “He told me. That’s great. Very happy for you two.”

The intensity in Blaise’s eyes had Harry gesturing to the bathroom. He hurried inside, his mind already racing with what he might tell Blaise about Ginny. Nothing really came to him while he relieved his bladder, washed his hands, and brushed his teeth.

As soon as Harry opened the door, Blaise jumped to his feet. “So, about Ginny…”

“Yeah, we talked yesterday,” Harry said. “She’s… having a hard time. With everything. I mean, it’s not just you,” Harry hurried to add. He ran nervous fingers through his hair. “It’s - you know I left her in sixth year, and then you left her last year, and then, well, I left her _again_. And in some weird way Fred left her too, even if it wasn’t a choice he made. It’s sort of a lot to deal with, and Ginny isn’t very good at dealing with a lot.”

“I see. Left behind. Lonely, maybe?” Blaise stared into space for a moment, then nodded. “Right. Thank you for letting me know. I’ll have to think about it more. If there’s anything, anything at all you think I can do. For her. You’ll let me know?”

“Yeah, sure.” Harry grabbed his school robes. “For now, she just needs space. And - I’ll keep up with her. Help her where I can.” He edged toward the door, eager to make his escape.

“Good. Thanks. Okay.” Blaise looked around, as though he couldn’t remember what they were meant to be doing.

“I was going to meet Draco for breakfast,” Harry said, reaching for the door knob.

“Breakfast. Yes. He’s probably looking for you too.” Blaise smiled, his thoughts finally shifting away from Ginny. “I noticed he left here looking terribly pleased with himself last night. Take note, his delicate princess skin bruises easily.”

Harry grinned, imagining the love bites he’d left on Draco’s neck. “I will keep that in mind.”

And indeed when he found Draco in the common room, there was a small, pale pink mark just above his collar. Draco’s face lit up when he saw Harry. “Oh good, you’re awake!”

“Good morning,” Harry said, clutching his robes tightly to his chest. “You want to head down to breakfast together?” Should he reach for Draco’s hand? Could he kiss his cheek? 

None of those things, because Draco was already shouldering his bag. “Of course. I was waiting for you.” He led Harry into the corridor.

They walked close together, their arms occasionally bumping, but Draco didn’t take his hand. Harry decided it didn’t bother him, not with a sparkling, new relationship between two people that didn’t yet know their boundaries. They had time to figure these things out. Maybe Draco wasn’t as tactile as Ginny had been.

There was just one moment before they came to the Great Hall doors, when Draco gave him a quick peck on the lips and said, “I’ll see you at lunch?” then reached for the door.

Harry grabbed his arm. “Wait! That’s it?”

Draco looked around at the odd student or two that walked past them into the Great Hall. He led Harry around the corner. “Erm, yes? I didn’t think you’d want to sit at the Slytherin table and I’m not sure I’ll be welcome at the Gryffindor one and really, people don’t switch tables that often, right?”

“But lunch? That’s… far off. I thought we’d hang out before then.”

“Oh, well, since we have Potions today, Theo and I were going to take advantage of the extra brewing time to work on the last of the long term care potions that take forever. It’s better if they don’t have to sit on stasis.”

“Well,” Harry tugged the sleeves of his school robes down, “can I join you there? Just watch? I could bring some things to work on so I’m not in the way.”

Draco’s smile went a long way to calming Harry’s nerves. “Of course! That would be wonderful.” He almost reached for Harry’s hand, but gripped the strap of his bag instead. “I’d like that.”

Harry bit his lip, unsure of his next move. Did Draco not want to hold his hand? Could he ask for a proper kiss goodbye, even if they were only going to be apart for breakfast? Draco had kissed him freely last night, but maybe things were different now that they were in view of everyone else. 

“So,” Draco said, gesturing vaguely at the corridor, “breakfast?” He walked away, so Harry followed. Without a kiss.

No big deal, he told himself as he sat between Dean and Neville. There would be time for kissing later. If Draco had concerns about public displays of affection, Harry didn’t want to trample all over it. Everyone already knew they’d been fooling around, if the good-natured ribbing was any sign.

It took him a while to notice Ron and Neville talking quietly together about Ginny. Ron kicked Harry’s leg to get his attention. “What’d she say to you yesterday?” he asked quietly, so as not to draw attention from the others.

No matter how close the rebellion had made the students last year, Harry knew with every fiber of his being that Ginny would hex him into next week if he told Ron or Neville what she’d been up to with Blaise. “Mostly that last year sucked and she’s having a hard time dealing with it.”

“Yeah, but _Blaise_. What happened there?”

Harry shrugged, “That’s not for me to say, right?” He looked down the table but didn’t see her. “Where is she this morning?”

Ron pointed behind himself. “Sat with Luna today.”

Good, Harry thought, both because Luna’s odd logic would soothe Ginny and because the more people that sat at the wrong table, the less Harry would stick out when he joined Draco at the Slytherin table. 

“It was Zabini, leaking that intel, wasn’t it?” Neville said. Harry’s eyes widened before he could school his features into something suitable for lying. “It’s all right, we won’t say anything but… After Filch’s office, we had a harder time of things. I guess it all just fits.” Neville shook his head and resumed eating.

Ron stabbed at his eggs. “That’s a risky game she was playing.”

For the billionth time, Harry cursed his generation’s unluckiness. At least he had Draco now. They made eye contact across the Great Hall and shared smiles a few times, and Harry lamented they couldn’t sit near each other. He hadn’t seen Draco in nearly eight hours and he missed him. And he said so as soon as they left for the Potions lab.

“You’re ridiculous,” Draco said, with an eye roll, but his cheeks pinkened nicely so Harry counted it as a win. Draco elbowed him playfully, and Harry pushed back, grinning. But he still didn’t take Harry’s hand. 

The empty lab carried the usual earthy scent that made Harry’s nose wrinkle in distaste. But Draco inhaled deeply and then exhaled on a pleasant sigh. As they set their bags down, Draco flicked his wand at the door and Harry heard the lock click into place.

“We’ve probably got ten minutes before Theo gets here,” he said, pulling Harry into a hug and nuzzling at his neck. 

He worked his way along Harry’s jaw, and then their lips finally met in a searing kiss. Harry melted into the body pressed against his. Oh, how he’d missed this during the long lonely hours when… well, all right he had been sleeping, but still…

“I missed you,” Harry said, feeling silly for the sentiment. They practically lived together in these close quarters. And there hadn’t even been time to miss each other.

But Draco responded with a desperate, “Me too,” and drew the kiss out with a whimpering moan that Harry’s cock certainly enjoyed. 

The kiss pushed Harry back and back until he bumped a table. He wriggled onto the table and hugged Draco’s hips between his thighs. It sent a welcome thrill through Harry when Draco’s fingers slipped under the hem of his t-shirt and caressed the small of his back. Fucking hell, one day Draco’s fingers would be wrapping around his _cock_ and while Harry’s brain didn’t know what to do with that knowledge, his prick happily throbbed in his pants. 

Then Draco’s hand tangled in Harry’s hair, tugging lightly as he nipped at Harry’s jaw. “You make everything so fucking difficult,” Draco said on a soft groan.

“Excuse me?” Harry said, leaning back with a frown. “ _I’m_ being difficult?”

Draco blinked a few times then ducked his head for another kiss, but Harry pushed him away. “Hey,” Harry said, “how am I being difficult?” He jumped off the table and crossed his arms. “I would say I’m being rather accommodating considering I wanted to find a place that didn’t include the threat of Theo Nott’s appearance at any moment.”

“Theo…” Draco said, with a confused frown at the door. “One more kiss before he gets here.” He reached for Harry, but Harry evaded him. Before a chase could begin, the doorknob rattled and a knocking sounded. The lock clicked and Theo came in with a confused look, until he caught sight of the two of them.

“Naughty boys!” he grinned. “There are a thousand other rooms in this castle you could sully. Please don’t use the one I work in.”

“Just passing the time, waiting for you,” Draco said to Theo, but his worried eyes stayed on Harry, who was working on fastening his school robe. “Are you leaving? I thought you were going to stay?”

“Even though I’m so difficult?” Harry asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Damn it, he hadn’t intended the bitter edge to his words. But what did Draco want from him? It was Draco that initiated the kiss, and hadn’t Harry done what he wanted?

“Difficult how?” Draco asked.

“I don’t know!” Harry said, throwing his hands up. “You’re the one that said it!”

“I said you were difficult?”

“Yes!”

“Well I don’t remember that -”

“It was literally a minute ago,” Harry said, feeling confused as Draco looked. Did Draco really not remember? “Just how fogged up do you get while we’re kissing?”

“Like a Confundus Charm. You’re very - distracting.” Theo snorted at that, and Draco flipped him two fingers. “And it’s _difficult_ to focus on my work.”

Harry fiddled with his sleeves, just for something to do with his hands now that he knew he’d misunderstood and completely wasted their last thirty seconds of kissing time. “Oh,” he finally said. “Well… that’s actually rather nice of you to say.”

“On that note,” Draco said, “it's probably best you’re not around while I’m trying to brew or I’ll end up with a melted cauldron.”

“Sure,” Harry said, feeling the soft glow returning. His _boyfriend_ found his kisses _distracting_. “I understand. I’ve got some things to look up for Herbology anyway so I’ll just…”

“I’ll see you for lunch though, right?” Draco asked, with worry still clouding his eyes. “We’re okay?”

“Of course. Yes, lunch. Yeah, we’re good,” he said with a smile. “Really good.” Harry didn’t know if he could kiss Draco goodbye, and then the matter felt settled when Draco opened his bag for his Potions journal. He waved goodbye with a wide smile as Harry left. 

Okay so that had been weird. Good, yes, but also very weird. Harry didn’t know what to make of Draco’s dazed mumbling while they kissed. He decided he would be flattered he could drive him to distraction so easily, and he resolved not to let the words anger him again. Clearly, Draco had no control over his words and didn’t mean what he said. Harry could work with that.

In the eighth years’ classroom, Daphne and Ollie sat across Ernie and Lisa, but they moved their books to clear space for Harry at one end of the table. “If only McGonagall were here to see this lovely little display of inter-house unity,” Harry said as he sat down.

Ernie laughed, “I had my doubts about sharing space with the other Houses but it’s been good.” He gave Lisa a peck on the cheek and put an arm around her shoulder. “Better than.”

“Aww, so sweet of you!” Lisa said, resting her hand on his thigh. “I heartily agree. All these years we’ve shared classes together, and yet, some of us were near strangers!”

“And now here we are, pairing off with little regard to House lines. If things continue in this vein, we’ll be the generation with the highest rate of mixed-house marriages the wizarding world has ever seen.”

“Is that so?” Lisa asked, raising one brow with a grin. “Already planning a wedding then?”

Immediately Ernie’s face flushed a tomato red. “No! I mean - not like - I - I’ve just -”

Lisa and Daphne both giggled, and then Harry met Ollie’s eye and he couldn’t control his own laughter. “Oh stop,” Lisa said, wiping tears from her eyes. “I was only teasing. Oh Merlin, you should see your face!”

“It’s all right, Ernie,” Daphne said, “I thought Theo’s eyes would pop out of his head when Tracey mentioned their hypothetical children the other day.”

“We’re only nineteen!” Ernie squeaked. “Children and marriage are a bit off, aren’t they?”

“I don’t know,” Harry said, flipping through his Herbology text, “wizards seem to marry young. My parents were only eighteen when they married - fresh out of Hogwarts.”

“My parents too,” Ollie said. “Nineteen years old, and my brother came along a year later.”

Harry’s eyes widened with glee, “What do you suppose all these mixed-House marriages will do to the Sorting Hat?”

“It’ll be one hat stall after another,” Ollie said immediately, “trying to figure out which traits stick out.”

Lisa scoffed, “Of course that won’t happen.” She winked at Daphne, although Harry might have been the only one to see it. “Everyone knows there’s only four kinds of students anyway - smart, reckless, sneaky, and miscellaneous.”

She shared a laugh with Daphne as Ernie cried, “Hey! I’m not miscellaneous!”

Lisa squished Ernie’s face. “No of course not, darling,” she cooed. “You’re reckless. Like ‘Harry Potter’ level recklessness.” She kept talking over Harry’s mock outrage. “Must’ve been mis-sorted to begin with.”

Ernie rolled his eyes, and then pressed a kiss to her knuckles. Their hands stayed joined, resting in Ernie’s lap and Harry tried not to feel jealous. “I’ll have you know I’m dead clever, but my mum and dad had their hearts set on a matching set of Hufflepuff children. So I went to Hufflepuff like my brother and sister before me.” 

“I’m the first Hufflepuff in my family,” Ollie said. “Both my parents and my brother were hardcore Slytherins.” Everyone stared at quiet, gentle, unassuming Ollie in surprise. He shrugged, “Sorting hardly matters at a certain point, wouldn’t you say?”

“No,” Daphne said softly, “I don’t suppose it does.” They shared a look that made Harry feel like an intruder in their space. He wished he had Draco here to share a look with. Being the odd man out in not one, but _two_ couples hardly seemed fair now that he had a relationship of his own.

An hour later, Michael and Parvati joined the group, and Harry had to escape. The girls’ excited chatter about the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend for Valentine’s day bored him to tears. He and Draco wouldn’t be together long enough yet to make a big deal about the holiday. And anyway, going to Hogsmeade hardly felt special when they were allowed down there any time. If he’d been planning a special date, in fact, he’d do it on Sunday for the _actual_ holiday just to avoid the Saturday crowd of younger students.

Unfortunately, the study groups in the common room seemed to be discussing the same thing. Lavender and Tracey had Divination texts open, but were laughing loudly over possible alterations to a muggle dress Tracey had acquired. Even Neville and Terry were caught up in it, arranging a double date with Hannah and Sally-Anne. Their girlfriends whispered in the window seat, casting the occasional fond smile at their boyfriends.

He almost joined Dean and Seamus, but when he heard Seamus complaining about Lavender talking to Tracey, he picked up a stray library book as though he’d meant to all along and left the room. Perhaps he should find Ron and Hermione instead. Oh, but they would be heading to Potions class. Maybe he could go for a fly? No… if he wanted to spend the evening with Draco, he should finish his research for Herbology. 

Fine, to the library he would go.

\--------

Harry sat at the empty end of the Slytherin table, his skin vibrating with nerves while he waited for Draco. He probably shouldn’t have arrived at lunch so early but he couldn’t stand to be in the library for even one second more after being harrassed by two overly persistent Ravenclaws. The jittery feeling only intensified every time someone looked his way and whispered to their neighbour.

What was the big deal? Harry had sat here before, even if only for a few minutes at the beginning or end of the meal. And sometimes the eighth years sat with their significant others for a meal, particularly now that the House lines had nearly disappeared. If the Ravenclaws from the library were right, no one knew Harry already had a boyfriend, and how had that happened? Surely the other eighth years would have spread the news about it?

The evidence suggested they did not, much to Harry’s frustration. Did he have to announce everything himself? Why did gossip only work against him? 

“Ooh, Harry, making a statement of some sort, are we?” Tracey asked as she sat down. Millicent, her silent shadow, sat at her side with a blank stare. “After that article, they’re all going to be wondering who you’re after.”

“They’ll assume it’s me,” Blaise said, taking the seat to Harry’s left. “I’ve clearly enchanted him - a skill I learned from my mother.” He winked at Harry, who rolled his eyes with a grin.

“Are you going to be sitting here regularly?” Daphne asked. She glanced over her shoulder. “Could Ollie sit with us too?”

“I don’t know. I just - really needed to see Draco today.” He ignored their sly grins when the door to the Great Hall opened and Theo and Draco finally arrived. Ron and Hermione came in just behind them and scanned the Gryffindor table, probably looking for Harry. They sat in their usual seats, then found Harry when Neville pointed the way. Ron pulled a funny face at Harry and began serving up his food.

“Harry, I didn’t know you’d be joining us for lunch,” Draco said happily. He sat next to Harry, leaving space between them and not making any move to kiss his cheek or squeeze his hand or do any of the intimate things Harry wanted.

Or needed. Fuck, his skin had that weird tingle again, and he wanted so badly to press his body up against Draco’s. He tried to smile and it seemed to work fine. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Draco said. He served himself a heap of spaghetti and salad. “But it was better you weren’t there to distract me. We finished the last of long term care and can finally move on to the psychotropics, which are far more interesting.”

He and Theo began a lively conversation about the merits of cheering charms versus euphoria elixirs, but Harry had a hard time focusing, and instead subtly shifted closer and closer to Draco until their bodies were flush from hip to knee. Draco’s elbow bumped him a few times while he ate, but Harry didn’t care if it meant he could feel the heat of Draco’s body. 

“Are you all right?” Draco finally asked, when another knock of his elbow had Harry dropping his fork.

“Not really,” Harry admitted, glancing around at the others. Should he mention it here in front of everyone? “I had a run-in with two Ravenclaws at the library. And it was - unpleasant.”

“What kind of run-in?”

“Well, it’s - no one knows we’re dating yet. And so she said if I was feeling confused I could - er, that she and her boyfriend would… you know… have a - a threesome with me.”

Blaise and Tracey burst into laughter, and even louder laughter when they saw Draco’s scowl. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“Why would I do that?” Harry shifted in his seat, rubbing his leg against Draco’s to calm himself. “It was so fucking weird and just -” he shuddered. “She said I could see which of them I liked better and decide if I was really gay or not.”

“That little bitch! Who was she?” Draco’s eyes roamed the Ravenclaw table, looking for anyone spying on them. But half the Great Hall glanced at them in turn, so it hardly signified anything. Harry certainly wasn’t going to point her out.

“Was he fit?” Tracey asked, her eyes glinting with laughter. This set Blaise laughing all over again.

Daphne elbowed Tracey. “Lay off, you’re making it worse.”

“That’s what happens when you don’t make it obvious,” Tracey said. She planted a loud smacking kiss on Theo’s cheek, and then hugged his arm while resting her head on his shoulder. “You two should snog right now.”

“What? No!” Draco hissed. “Stop being ridiculous! We’re not kissing in full view of everyone like some -”

“Stop!” Harry said just loudly enough to quiet them without drawing the rest of the students’ attention. “We don’t have to make out in the Great Hall. I was just going to suggest everyone spread the word a little so it doesn’t happen again. My skin is still crawling from it.”

Draco gave him a sympathetic smile and finally… finally his hand landed on Harry’s thigh. As his hand caressed lightly up and down, the tingling in Harry’s skin shifted just under the surface, slowly easing away. “Could we - maybe get out of here a little early?”

“Sure,” Draco said softly. “We have time before Arithmancy.” He swirled the pasta on his fork, and Harry took that to mean they would finish eating quickly.

But he didn’t think he could stomach anything at the moment. The tingling in his skin, unlike the magical surges he used to get, couldn’t be redirected. It had him squirming in his seat, struggling against the rising desire to rub himself against Draco, onlookers be damned.

“I’m done,” he said, throwing his fork to his plate with a rattle that jarred his own ears.

“Okay, let’s go.” Draco swallowed the last of his glass of water as he stood. “Ready?”

They found a quiet spot where they were unlikely to be found. Immediately, Harry gripped Draco’s hips, rubbing his cheek on Draco’s cheek. 

“Are you all right?” Draco asked.

“No. I don’t know - I feel weird.”

“Okay,” Draco said, running his hands through Harry’s hair and massaging his scalp lightly. “It’s all right.” His hands coasted down Harry’s chest and around his waist. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, it’s good,” Harry gasped as Draco squeezed his arse. “Draco,” he said on a soft exhale. Yes, fuck, it felt perfect. The tingling settled as Draco continued his caresses.

“Oh Harry…” Draco’s lips met his and Harry groaned into the feel of it. His skin warmed under Draco’s hands, and the tension slowly morphed into a languid desire.

This was what he needed, Draco pressing him against a wall and kissing him as though the world was ending. He needed the push and pull of desire, of Draco’s hand in his hair and squeezing him hard enough to bruise. 

“Mm…” Draco moaned, “I want to suck the chocolate right out of you.”

Harry tried to keep kissing through his laughter, but it didn’t work. “Draco, you loon.” He dropped little nipping kisses along Draco’s jaw. “You babble the weirdest shit while we’re kissing. At least this one was funny.”

Draco shook his head, as though trying to clear it. He kept his gaze on Harry’s lips, breathing fast. “I want you to eat chocolate so I can lick it out of your mouth. I think I’d lose my mind if you tasted like chocolate.”

“Good, I’ll keep that in mind.” He buried his face in Draco’s neck and sighed when Draco’s arms came around him, one of his hands creeping under Harry’s shirt to splay his fingers across the small of his back. Harry felt real and whole again, and giddy enough to say, “We should get some Sunday. For Valentine’s day.”

“Really?” Draco pulled away, his face showing surprise and a smile bright with eagerness. “What did you have in mind? Do you mean gifts? Or a date?”

“A date. A real date. Our first date,” Harry said. He felt a stupid grin on his face, but it matched Draco’s so that was probably fine. 

“Our first date,” Draco echoed. “I’d love that.”

“We could go to Hogsmeade. Or maybe McGonagall would let us go to Edinburgh? I can ask.”

“Absolutely. This is wonderful. A date. A _date_!” Draco squeezed Harry’s cheeks and kissed him again. 

And as he walked to Hogsmeade to meet with Madam Hooch, Harry hummed a happy song, thinking maybe the holiday wasn’t so ridiculous after all.

\--------

Half the school emptied for the Hogsmeade visit on Saturday. Most of those that remained behind were the first and second years too young to go to Hogsmeade, a smattering of middle years without dates, and the eighth years that would be going on Sunday instead.

Harry and Ron set up an obstacle course around the Quidditch pitch for the younger kids to navigate. He’d finished mending two of the brooms with Madam Hooch and they were put into the rotation for those without brooms. While not exactly as good as new, they flew cleanly with a decent response to skilled flyers. 

Ginny brought Liesel, Gryffindor’s seeker, to the pitch and helped organise the mixed group of kids. Luna came as well, and sat with Hermione and Blaise in the stands to watch. House Elves passed among the scattered crowd with mugs of hot chocolate. At some point, Hermione got fed up with Blaise talking to Luna around her and switched with him. Blaise and Luna continued an intense conversation Harry could only imagine revolved around Ginny. He hoped Ginny didn’t notice.

When they went in for dinner, Harry joined Draco at the Slytherin table. Word had spread about their relationship, and during their first few shared meals, eyes of all ages watched every move. But after several days, they were no longer such an oddity. And now Ollie joined them too, sitting next to Daphne.

It had started a cascade of table hopping among the eighth years. Neville sat in Ollie’s place with Hannah, and Michael sat in Neville’s spot next to Parvati. Lisa and Ernie swapped with Terry and Sally-Anne at the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables. And of course there were extra seats at the Slytherin tables, occasionally filled by Mandy or Anthony, who liked the change in scenery. 

That night, Harry gave Draco a slow kiss goodnight, although his body hummed with anticipation for Sunday. “Are you ready for tomorrow?”

“Absolutely. Can’t wait.”

“Mm, me either. I’ll pick up the portkey in Hogsmeade and meet you by the school gates by six. Don’t be late.”

Draco kissed him again, but Harry pulled back. “More tomorrow. Get some sleep, all right?”

Harry smothered a yelp when Draco smacked his arse and grinned. “Goodnight, Harry.”

“Goodnight, you great git.” Harry stuck his tongue out at Draco, but that only made Draco moan in appreciation as he opened the door to his own room.

Headmistress McGonagall arranged the portkey to Edinburgh for everyone that wanted to go, but few wanted to travel so far. Their group consisted of Tracey and Theo, Seamus and Lavender, Ron and Hermione, and of course Draco and Harry. Over the last few days, Tracey and Theo had been arguing about what he would wear. She’d modified her dress with Lavender’s help and wanted to see a muggle night club first hand. But Theo said they could “pry his robes from his cold, dead hands.” Tracey growled loudly that they could certainly arrange it if he so desired.

Seamus had been dragged along with just as many protests. He didn’t want to spend the romantic holiday with three Slytherins and two gay boys. “I swear I will fucking hex you if you kiss that blond git in front of me, Harry!” he’d muttered under his breath numerous times. But Lavender’s dress had a v-neck cut so deep that sometimes his words trailed off when he thought about it too hard, so he’d agreed to come anyway.

Ron didn’t care where they were going, so long as Hermione came along with him. She agreed, and only had concern that they be back in time to get enough sleep before their Defence class on Monday. But McGonagall had set their return portkey for midnight, so no worries there. All in all, it was set to be an exciting outing. 

But first, Harry had to get ready. He’d volunteered to get the portkey so that he could get Marjorie to colour his hair, now that the purple had faded, and surprise Draco with it. She trimmed it to a messy medium length that suited his soft waves, and added deep green highlights that would bring out his eyes. 

As he passed over his sickles he asked, “Erm… do you know where I could get nail polish? And,” he coughed nervously, “eyeliner?”

“To give as a gift or for you?” At his blush, she said, “Oh Harry, a boy after my own heart! Let me see if Vicka’s got anyone with her.” She went through a curtain at the back of the shop and came back moments later. “You’re in luck! Come on back.”

Walking back to the school gates with the portkey, he wondered if he’d gone overboard. Vicka and Marjorie had made him over like a little doll and he could only hope Draco thought him a _sexy_ doll because he felt ridiculous.

Scratch that. It was worth every single moment of embarrassment to watch that flush take over Draco’s face as he caught sight of Harry.

“Bloody fucking hell what are you wearing, Harry?” Draco squeaked as his eyes, round as galleons, zeroed in on the boots Harry had bought specifically for such a reaction.

“I bought new boots.” Understatement! He’d also bought a black button-up shirt that Gladrags had tailored to fit more snugly. He’d rolled the sleeves to his elbows, per Marjorie’s instructions, and wore it untucked over his black jeans. He knew if he moved just so, his shirt would ride up and his new iridescent dragonhide belt would catch the light. But Draco didn’t notice because his eyes hadn’t left the knee high, black leather boots. Or maybe it was the line of shiny silver buckles he liked. 

“You look gay as fuck,” Seamus grumbled. “I don’t want to go anymore.”

Lavender crossed her arms under her breasts, pushing them so high, Harry feared they’d fall out of her dress. “Are you sure you want to stay behind?”

“Fine! Fine, but I don’t have to like it.” He pulled a giggling Lavender in, ducking to kiss her collarbone, but Hermione yanked her back.

“None of that!” she said loudly, as if her volume could disguise the blush on her cheeks. “We can’t get distracted. The portkey should be leaving soon. You _did_ get the portkey during your little makeover, didn’t you Harry?”

At the word make-over, Draco’s eyes darted up to meet Harry’s and he squeaked again when he saw the eyeliner. Harry smiled and held out the wide metal ring. “I did indeed. It’s almost time.”

“Is that - you painted your nails too,” Draco said faintly. Harry wriggled his fingers, drawing everyone’s eyes to his black fingernails.

“If you pass out,” Seamus said with a glare, “we’re leaving your gay arse here.”

“Enough!” Hermione said sternly. “Everyone gather around.”

They shuffled into a loose circle, everyone taking hold of the ring. Draco took Harry’s free hand, and moments later the ring glowed blue and whisked them away.

They landed in an alley that was thankfully clean. Hermione put the ring in her beaded bag and then pulled out a handful of small tokens. She tapped them with her wand and mumbled an incantation Harry couldn’t hear. They glowed purple for a moment, then the light faded away. “Here, everyone take one.”

“What are these for?” Tracey asked, taking one for her and handing one to Theo. Harry noted she’d gotten Theo into muggle trousers and shirt, even if he didn’t look happy about it. But then she smiled at him, and his face softened into a warm smile.

“They’re in case any of us gets lost. Squeeze it hard for ten seconds and it’ll return you to this spot. And just in case, here’s the address for a wizarding post owl service,” she passed out little slips of paper, “that has a public floo.”

“You certainly came prepared, didn’t you?” Lavender asked, tucking her paper into the bodice of her dress. Seamus followed her movements as though he might crawl in as well.

“So what do we do first?” Ron asked. 

Tracey pulled Theo towards the main road. “Let’s go exploring!”

They wandered through Edinburgh’s high street, looking in shop windows. Harry and Draco lagged behind so they could talk a little more freely.

“You look amazing,” Draco whispered.

Warmth flowed through Harry, bringing a smile to his face. “So do you.” Draco’s charcoal grey trousers and waistcoat covered him like a second skin, drawing Harry’s eye up and up his endless legs to a pert, round arse. “I like your boots.”

On his next step, Draco held out one foot, admiring his shiny ankle boots. “Not as much as I like yours, I’m sure.”

They shared matching grins and hurried to catch up to others, now turning towards the restaurant. The hostess led the group to a large round table in a quiet corner, and did a little double take when she noticed Draco and Harry sitting together. She faltered for a moment in her little spiel about the specials, but then carried on as though seeing a gay couple was an everyday occurence.

Tracey had question after question for Hermione about muggle restaurants and how they worked without magic. Her look of horror at the thought of washing all those dishes without any charms would have made Harry laugh, except he’d washed dishes by hand and it was just as horrible as she imagined. He made a mental note to leave an extra large tip for the staff.

After a pleasant meal, the group went several blocks over to a nightclub with loud music, lights, and people spilling out onto the pavement. Harry dropped a wad of cash into the bouncer’s hand, casting a light _confundus_ at the same time to prevent them being asked for ID. They lost Seamus and Lavender to the crowd almost instantly. Tracey looked like she wanted to follow, but as expected, Theo had his grumpy face on. He gave her a kiss, then whispered in her ear and pointed to the bar. She nodded and hurried off after Lavender and Seamus.

“Let’s get drinks and a table,” Theo said loudly. Ron and Draco went to help him find a table, while Harry and Hermione ordered drinks. Neither of them knew anything about alcohol, so they ordered a variety and waited for the bartender to fill their tray.

“You look really good,” Hermione said over the music, elbowing him playfully. “Different for sure, but good.”

He smoothed a hand down the front of his shirt and admired his outfit. “Thanks, I feel a little silly. I think. I kind of like the nail polish,” he said, holding out his hands to look at the black polish. “I can’t really see the green or the eyeliner.” He shrugged, “That was mainly just for Draco.”

“It’s been a good week, then?”

He grinned widely, thinking of the past few nights snogging Draco in his bed. “The _very_ best.” Almost the best, he amended to himself. Draco didn’t seem keen on any kinds of public displays of affection so they saved it all for private moments. Harry wouldn’t mind more of what the other couples around them managed so easily - the hand holding, quick kisses hello and goodbye, an arm around his waist, or any of that. He’d never had to ask for those things from Ginny and now he didn’t know how to ask for them from Draco.

Hermione squeezed his arm. “That’s good to hear. You needed something good.” 

The bartender handed Harry a tray of drinks of various sizes and colours. Hermione glanced around, looking for Ron. A short, sharp whistle drew their eye to a corner, where Ron, Theo, and Draco sat at a small table.

Harry set the tray down. “We didn’t know what everyone wanted so we got this weird collection. Whiskey and tequila shots, a mojito, a cosmopolitan - the bartender said they were popular. And four or five kinds of martini.”

Ron downed a shot, wheezed loudly, then offered a hand to Hermione. “Do you want to dance?”

She grinned, “Not really, but let’s go anyway.” 

“What about you?” Draco asked Harry. “Do you want to dance with me?”

“Erm… I’m not terribly coordinated,” Harry hedged.

“Lies! I’ve seen you on a broom. You’re very coordinated. Come on, Theo will watch our table.” And indeed it looked like Theo had no intention of leaving the safe confines of their dark corner. Really, Harry had little choice when Draco yanked him by the arm.

And it turned out when there weren’t a thousand eyes watching for mistakes, and nothing mattered but jumping around in sync with the crowd, he _could_ dance. They found Lavender and Seamus, grinding lewdly on each other, and Tracey laughing with a dark haired girl with elaborate eye make-up in vibrant colours. 

After two songs, Harry begged off and let Draco dance with a blond girl wearing an outfit nearly identical to Draco’s. He joined Theo at the table, still covered in the random glasses.

“Have you tried anything yet?” Harry asked, gesturing at the drinks. “What’s good?”

“I’m not drinking any of these things. Do you know how many poisons have alcohol as their base?”

“They're not going to poison their patrons,” Harry said with a laugh.

“Whatever, I’m sticking with an _aguamenti_.” He held up a plain glass, half-filled with water. “Where’s Draco?”

“Dancing with his girl doppleganger, last I saw.”

“Did you see Tracey?”

“Yeah, she was with some girl with wild eye make-up.”

“She’ll be flush with make-up tips by night’s end. She’s fascinated by muggle make-up. I hate that shit. It smells weird and rubs right off. Aren’t charms better?”

“Well, it’s different. I wouldn’t know about better.” Marjorie and Vicka had charmed his eyeliner on. And he liked that it wouldn’t smear if he forgot and rubbed his eye. But he wasn’t about to disparage muggle methods when Theo was just getting his feet wet in this world.

“I need a drink,” Draco said, his momentum knocking his entire body into Harry. “Those girls are handsy as fuck.” He downed one shot of tequila, grimaced, then took a large gulp of a pale green martini. “Mm, apples! Come dance with me,” he said to Harry, tugging on his arm. “They won’t come after me if I have you with me.”

The whole night carried on the same way, with Draco trying to keep Harry on the dance floor, and Harry trying to guard their table with Theo. Tracey came to check on Theo several times, and each visit displayed a change in her appearance. New eye make-up, transfigured earrings, redder lipstick, and then Harry suspected her bra went missing, but he wasn’t going to look too closely to verify. Theo seemed to be handling that job just fine.

Seamus and Lavender came and went several times, each getting progressively drunker and more amorous, until they disappeared in the loos for an uncomfortable amount of time. They returned disheveled and giggling, but at least managed to dance without groping anymore.

Ron and Hermione, both not enjoying the club overly much, told Harry they’d meet at the portkey site, and left the club together. Harry envied them their privacy, and wished the portkey had been scheduled for earlier so he could finish his evening with Draco in the quiet of his four-poster.

Then he changed his mind when Draco removed his waistcoat. The white fabric of his shirt clung to his sweat-dampened skin, and if he didn’t have a vest on underneath, Harry thought he’d be able to see his nipples through it. And then Draco rolled up his sleeves, and Harry knew instantly why Marjorie had directed him to do the same. Draco’s pale, slender forearms, with two bracelets on his left wrist made Harry’s mouth water. 

Unfortunately, Draco noticed the direction of his gaze and started to roll his left one back down. “I forgot,” he said, avoiding Harry’s eye.

“Don’t,” Harry said, covering Draco’s hand. “Just be you. Please.” Draco looked uncertain, so Harry fixed the roll of his sleeve and ran a gentle hand down his forearm, over the pale Mark. He tugged lightly at the bracelet, then laced their fingers together. “You look… just _so_ fucking hot.”

Draco’s slow smile made Harry’s heart flutter, and then again when his arm circled Harry’s waist and he drew him in for a kiss. Harry’s groan was lost among the loud music, but he knew Draco could feel it against his lips.

“Gay!” Seamus yelled, from who-the-fuck-knew-where.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Fuck off, Seamus!” He smiled at Draco. “Let’s dance. One more before we go somewhere more quiet.”

It only took moments for Harry to wish they’d just gone somewhere quiet. Draco moved sinuously against him in a slow form of torture that had his blood singing louder than the music in the club. He sighed in relief when Draco whispered, “Fuck it, let’s get out of here.”

The frigid air outside contrasted sharply with the stale air of the club, but Harry welcomed the way it cleared his head. He walked quickly with Draco, both grinning, down a few streets to a darkened alley that looked somewhat private.

“Close enough,” Harry said, and cast a few privacy charms while Draco added in a cloud of warm air to keep them from freezing.

As soon as he stowed his wand, Draco pounced, pressing Harry to the wall and plunging his tongue deep into Harry’s mouth. “Fuck, I’m keeping my trousers on,” Draco moaned against Harry’s lips. “Say it. Agree with me. You’ll do the same.”

Harry groaned his disappointment as his prick throbbed in his pants. “Fuck, are you sure?”

“I’m not letting our first time getting off together be in some back alley of Edinburgh. Say it.”

“Damn it, yes, all right. Get back here.”

He thought Draco could be easily swayed once things progressed to a certain point, but true to his word, Draco kept his trousers fastened. But that didn’t stop his hands from sliding under Harry’s shirt to caress the skin of his back. And when that wasn’t enough, trembling fingers unbuttoned Harry’s shirt. 

“You’re meant to wear a vest,” Draco said, mouthing kisses along Harry’s collarbone.

“I have to say you’re not making your case very well,” Harry hissed in delight as Draco’s tongue flicked out at his nipple. Although Draco’s shirt also hung open, his vest prevented Harry from doing the same. He somehow didn’t think he could get Draco to strip to the waist.

Draco giggled and claimed Harry’s lips, nibbling and biting as his hands grasped tighter. “Okay, I can’t anymore.” He gulped in the air and stepped back. But then attacked Harry’s neck again. “Never mind. Fuck, you look gorgeous. Like a fucking wet dream. Please tell me this eyeliner is a spell you can recreate.”

Now it was Harry’s turn to giggle. “We’ve got a little while before the portkey. Tell me we’re getting off together when we get back to school.”

“I don’t know,” Draco groaned. “Isn’t it cliche to fuck on Valentine’s day? Is that what we want for our first time?”

“Do I look like I care about cliche right now?” Harry asked, rubbing a hand over his erection. “Besides, technically it’ll be after midnight when we make it back to my room so we can call it the fifteenth.”

“That is - a _very_ compelling argument.” Draco brushed his thumb along Harry’s cheekbone. “It’s only been a week. Is that taking it slow enough?”

“I’ve known you half my life. And I died last year. I’m done taking it slow.”

Draco grinned and gave Harry one last kiss. “Okay, enough. We have to calm down or else we’ll embarrass ourselves in front of everyone. I should have charmed my pants.” He ran his fingers through his hair, smoothing the sweat-dampened strands.

Harry snorted. “Charmed your pants? With what?”

“A binding or extension charm to hide this massive erection that is throbbing with every single beat of my heart.” He knocked his hips into Harry and bent to kiss his collarbone again.

“No, we can’t,” Harry said and playfully pushed Draco’s face away. He buttoned up his shirt, then pulled his wand. “The cold air will help.” He dropped the wards around them and they both winced at the rush of cold air. 

“Great now we need to huddle together for warmth.” And Draco was on him again.

Laughing and rosy from more than just cold, they made it to the meeting spot at the last minute only because of Hermione’s tokens. Thankfully, they looked no more disheveled than anyone else. The group landed at the Hogwarts gates just after midnight, everyone intact and sober enough to walk normally up the path and to their rooms. Both Ernie and Blaise were asleep, or at least behind their closed curtains. 

Harry ran his wand over the buckles on his boot, unfastening all of them at once. He slipped them off, dragging his socks along with them. Draco whispered in his ear, “One day I’m going to suck you off while you’re wearing those.”

A wave of hot desire had Harry closing his eyes. “Yes, fuck, I didn’t even know I wanted that until now.”

“Get in bed.”

Harry warded the curtains of his bed with all the privacy wards he knew. But his fingers hesitated on the buttons of his shirt. “Are you sure about this?” he asked quietly.

Draco unbuttoned his own shirt and threw it to the footboard. “Not really, but there’s no turning back. I mean, of course there is - if you want me to leave I will. But I’m done worrying about whether it’s right or not. I want you and that’s what matters to me right now.”

“Yeah, me too. That’s - me too.”

Draco pushed him back on the bed, covering his body completely. They’d done this numerous times over the last week, and Harry easily let his thighs fall open to cradle Draco’s hips. He squeezed Draco’s biceps, marveling at the novelty of Draco’s bare arms. With trembling fingers, Harry gathered the material of Draco’s vest and pulled it over his head. He skimmed down Draco’s chest and nipped little kisses along his neck.

“Wait, me too,” Harry said, pushing Draco off so he could remove his shirt too. He had a flare of self-conscious panic but Draco was back on him, skin to skin this time, and Harry’s thoughts scattered. Kissing had a whole new dimension when he could feel the flush of Draco’s body warming him directly. He trailed his fingers down Draco’s back, absently noting a ridged scar near his shoulder blade at the same time Draco shuddered.

“One day,” Draco whispered between kisses, “I want you to tell me about your scars.” He kissed the oval shaped scar left by Slytherin’s locket on Harry’s chest. “But not now, okay?”

Harry nodded, and dimmed the ball of _lumos_ lighting their space, assuming Draco’s words had more to do with his own scars than Harry’s.

“Mm,” Draco moaned into his neck, “you are so warm, so soft.” His hand ran down Harry’s back and squeezed his arse. “I want to take your trousers off just so, so badly but I’m afraid it’ll all be over in minutes. I feel like I’m about to explode.” He rolled his hips against Harry for emphasis.

“Yes, fuck, me too.” He unfastened his jeans, trying to wriggle them down his hips without dislodging Draco. “I don’t care if it’s fast. It’s still going to be the best orgasm I’ve ever had.”

Draco smiled and kissed him lightly. “Let me.” He sat up and pulled Harry’s jeans down, not paying very much attention to his movements once he’d gotten them down to Harry’s knees. His eyes stayed glued to Harry’s black pants, straining with the press of his erection. “You’re -” he gulped, “wearing my pants.”

Harry shimmied out of his jeans and kicked them aside. He wanted to ease the ache in his cock with a few quick strokes, but felt oddly shy with Draco watching so closely. “All my pants are your pants. The pants you bought me. They’re not actually _your_ pants,” Harry finished with a nervous blush. He kicked at Draco’s knee. “Now you. I don’t want to be the only naked one.”

Draco stood in the centre of Harry’s bed and unbuttoned his trousers. Slowly he lowered the zip, and Harry licked his lips in anticipation. Draco looming over him and doing a slow strip tease had his blood pumping harder and hotter through his veins. The grey trousers slid down Draco’s legs. While Harry had gone for classic black to match the rest of his black outfit, Draco wore low-rise y-fronts in a sexy shade of dark red. His hip bones peeked over the top, and Harry felt the overwhelming urge to lick them.

“Harry,” he whispered, once again tangling their bodies together. “We’re nearly naked.” 

“Nearly.” Harry gulped. The friction of their hips rocking together wasn’t nearly satisfying enough. Time for Gryffindor courage. “Take my pants off.”

First, Draco decided to torture Harry. He ran his hands over the bulge in his pants and squeezed Harry’s erection, while kissing him with soft, languid strokes of his tongue. Harry pushed down against Draco’s arse, while angling his hips up at the same time to get more pressure on his cock, but Draco wouldn’t cooperate.

When he finally knelt over Harry’s thigh, Harry almost sobbed in relief. Draco’s hands caressed Harry’s chest, over his belly, and paused for a moment with his fingertips under the waistband of Harry’s pants. Slowly he eased them down Harry’s hips and thighs, his mouth hanging open in a look that should have been ridiculous, but Harry found ridiculously _hot_. The wide-eyed wonder on Draco’s face obliterated any nervousness Harry felt at being the focus of such intense scrutiny.

Especially when inarticulate sounds spilled from Draco’s lips. He wrapped tentative fingers around Harry’s aching length, and then it was Harry’s turn to babble like a fool. ”Oh-yes-fuck-Draco- _please_ -yes-fuck- _move faster_ -please…”

Draco gained confidence with each stroke, and Harry knew his earlier words had been accurate, and this wasn’t going to last long at all. The wave was building, tingling along his spine, making his body tremble with it. It should have been a small thing, someone else’s hand on his prick instead of his own, but it was unlike anything he’d ever experienced.

And distantly he noted it helped that Draco knew how to handle the equipment. He knew where to apply pressure and how to keep Harry on the edge of just-enough. He rolled Harry’s bollocks in his hand, then gave them a long slow squeeze that sent a hot flood of desire rushing through him. “Draco, _fuckfuck_!” 

All the sensations were too new, too intense to hold back. Draco hissed a delighted, “ _Yes_ ,” when Harry gave a long, low moan and succumbed to the wave, the first burst of come shooting high to splatter his chest, the rest spilling over Draco’s long, pale fingers. His hand slowed, easing Harry through the last delicious pulses of it. 

“Fucking hell, Draco… that was incredible.” Harry fumbled in the covers, looking for his wand while his blood clamoured in his ears. His hands shook as he cast the cleaning charm over Draco’s messy hand and himself. 

“Sweet fucking Merlin, I made you _come_ , Harry,” Draco said with a manic giggle. “That was so hot.”

“Yes you did. Because you’re brilliant…” Harry sat up to kiss Draco. “So fucking brilliant.” His hand ran down Draco’s chest and he hoped he sounded seductive with a simple, “Now you.” He hesitated at Draco’s waistband, opting to skim his fingers along the hard ridge of Draco’s erection instead of just plunging inside.

But Draco exhibited none of the patience he’d used to torture Harry. He wriggled his red pants down his thighs and Harry had a flash of panic. This felt momentous - his first look at a real, live _hard_ cock that wasn’t his own. He barely had time to register what he saw before Draco pulled Harry’s hand around him. The skin was silky smooth, as expected, and so hard it made Harry’s mouth water. He wanted to lick-suck-bite-consume all of Draco but needed to focus on just hands for right now. _One step at a time_ , he reminded himself.

He couldn’t decide on a proper rhythm for things so he traced lightly with his fingertips instead of a whole-hand grip. _Nice choice_ , he thought, because it showed off his black nail polish. He rather liked how it looked against Draco’s skin and judging by Draco’s short, gasping breaths and the way he didn’t blink at _all_ as he stared at it, he did too. But the angle disorientated Harry, not being his usual wanking position and he thought he might have an easier time if he sat behind Draco to make the motion the same. 

Which triggered a thought he couldn’t help but blurt out. “You’re going to come right on me.”

Immediately, Draco grunted as though sucker-punched and his hot come shot across the scant distance between them to splatter on Harry’s stomach. He attacked Harry’s mouth again, moaning as the last few strokes of Harry’s hand drew out the last of his orgasm. He rested his head on Harry’s shoulder with an exhausted laugh. “Fucking hell, Harry.”

“I’m a mess,” Harry said unnecessarily, grinning at his wet hand and stomach. “That was fucking brilliant.”

“ _So_ fucking brilliant! I’m so exhausted now,” he laughed. Draco helped him get cleaned up and hesitated while fixing his pants. “Should I - can I stay here? With you?”

It might be awkward in the morning, when Harry’s roommates woke up, but he didn’t care about that at the moment. “Draco,” Harry sighed happily, “yeah, that would be - wonderful. I’d love that.” 

It took a few tries to concentrate with his magic zinging joyfully through him, but Harry managed to charm a hook onto one of the posts so they could hang their nice clothes out of the way. Harry pulled his pants back on, then extinguished the soft lumos. They crawled under the covers and Draco wrapped himself around Harry, skin to skin. “I’m sorry I don’t have pyjamas for you. I usually just sleep in my t-shirt and pants.”

“This is better,” Draco said as he ran a hand down Harry’s bare back. He whispered, “This is unreal. Just, the best thing ever.”

Harry chuckled softly, “Best fifteenth of February I’ve ever had.”

Draco laughed too, and hugged Harry tightly. “Goodnight, Harry.”

“Goodnight, Draco.” He kissed the face in front of him, hitting Draco’s chin and sparking another round of giggling. Draco laid his palm against Harry’s cheek to orient himself and gave Harry a gentle kiss on the lips. 

It took several more kisses and several more ‘goodnights’ but eventually they fell asleep, wrapped up in each other.


	11. Chapter 11

Harry woke slowly, surrounded by the overwhelming heat that came from sharing covers with another human being. And it was twelve times better than a regular warming charm. Because Draco spent the night.

Draco spent the _night_! The _whole_ night! With Harry. Together, like any other couple might. No hiding this from anyone - they would all know Draco’s bed hadn’t been slept in, or else see him walking the corridor to his room.

Harry grinned into his pillow and snuggled in deeper against Draco. With a soft, disgruntled moan, Draco shifted behind Harry so they nestled like spoons, and slid an arm around Harry’s waist. 

“We’re going to miss breakfast, aren’t we?” Draco mumbled sleepily.

Harry laughed and turned in Draco’s arms to rub their noses together. _Holy fucking shit_ , Harry thought in alarm when he ran his hand down Draco’s back and got to his waist. And his naked arse. “Draco, you’re naked,” he said in an excited whisper.

What the fuck happened to Draco’s pants? Actually, Harry didn’t care, especially when Draco hummed contentedly and rubbed himself with more purpose against Harry. His own cock started to respond in kind, spurred on by Harry’s excited thoughts of last night.

“I hate sleeping in pants,” he whined. “I must have kicked them off in the night.”

“Do you -” Harry swallowed the sudden flood of saliva in his mouth. “Do you sleep naked?” 

_Please say yes, please say yes, please say_ \- 

“No, but I wear my pyjama bottoms without underpants. More comfortable that way.” He nuzzled Harry’s neck. “Why aren’t you naked too? We could be naked together.”

“I can’t believe we’re here like this.”

Draco looked at Harry through squinted eyes, his nose crinkled adorably. “Was it too fast?”

“No! No, I - I loved it. It was brilliant.”

“Me too. Does that mean we can do it again?”

Harry answered by leaning in for a kiss, but Draco blocked him with his hand. “Charms first.” While Harry wondered what kind of charms they needed for hand jobs, Draco shot a mild cleaning spell at his mouth, and then Harry’s.

“Minty again,” Harry said in surprise. “How do you _do_ that?”

“Magic. Come kiss me.”

Only a few kisses in, just when things started to get interesting, a shining terrier patronus ran through the wards and startled them both.

“ _Sorry mate, Hermione’s orders. Get your naked arse out of bed before you miss class_.”

“I fucking hate that Weasel.”

Because he heard only weary resignation in Draco’s tone, Harry said, “Me too.” He had no trouble calling up a memory to conjure his stag with the return message that he was awake. “Anyway, it’s Hermione we should be mad at. Her one condition for the trip to Edinburgh was that we didn’t miss class.” He pulled on his jeans from yesterday.

“You’re really getting up?”

“Not in the way I want to,” Harry mumbled, fastening his jeans. He tossed Draco’s trousers to him. “We’ll make time for later.”

Draco grumbled, but looked through the sheets for his pants. He had no luck, as they were the same shade of red as Harry’s Gryffindor sheets, and hard to see. After half-heartedly digging, he simply shrugged and put his trousers on without pants at all. “What?” he asked when he saw Harry’s face.

“Nothing, it’s just that you’re - not wearing any pants.” Harry didn’t know why he was blushing; just a few hours ago he’d had Draco’s _cock_ in his _hand_ and they’d orgasmed. Together. He bit back his grin while buttoning his shirt and tried not to think about Draco’s come on his stomach.

“You like that?” Draco asked with a lopsided grin. “Good to know. Anyway, it’s just until I get to my room. Late for class or not, I’m showering before leaving the corridor.” He pulled his vest over his head and put the dress shirt on without buttoning it.

Harry gave him one last kiss. “You look gorgeous, waking up in my bed.”

Draco grinned against Harry’s lips. “Mm, your eyeliner is smudged.”

“What? It’s supposed to magically stay in place!”

“It does, until the spell starts to wear off, then it can smudge. Don’t worry, it’s super hot.” Draco put his wand in a pocket of his trousers. “I’m a fan of the eyeliner.” He paused for a second. “And the nail polish. _Definitely_ a fan of the nail polish.”

“Good to know,” Harry said with a smile, mimicking Draco’s words. He liked learning these things about each other. “Off to face the real world again.” Sighing, he lowered the spells warding his bed.

Of course, Theo and Blaise sat on the next bed with a chess set between them. They looked up with delighted grins when sleep rumpled Harry and Draco emerged wearing their nice clothes from yesterday.

“Good morning boys,” Blaise said with a wink. “Things go well last night?”

Draco gave Blaise a pleasant smile. “If it were any of your business, I’d say ‘fuck yes,’ but it’s not your business so I’ll say ‘no comment.’” He picked up his boots and socks and said to Harry, “Give me twenty minutes to shower -”

“More like an hour,” Theo interrupted.

Draco flipped him two fingers and continued without pause, “And we can walk down together. I’ll meet you here.”

“Okay.” Harry wanted to give him one more kiss goodbye but not with Theo and Blaise watching, and he’d missed his chance anyway, because Draco was already leaving. Harry pulled whatever clean clothes sat on the top of the pile in his trunk and hurried to the bathroom to shower.

He’d had _sex_ last night. With _Draco_. And yeah, okay not proper sex, not intercourse but like, outercourse? Was that a thing? Didn’t matter, he’d done it with Draco and it had been brilliant. How was he meant to concentrate on lessons today? Ugh, and Draco had Care of Magical Creatures this afternoon so they wouldn’t get much time together until evening. Stupid lessons. What a waste of time and yet completely necessary at the same time.

Thirty minutes later, Blaise and Theo left for class. Ten minutes after that, Draco met him and they walked to class together and they weren’t _technically_ late since Professor Mason came in after they did. And while Harry felt entirely different on the inside, the rest of the world went on just the same.

They demonstrated their skills, practiced tricky spells, and endured another lecture about NEWTs. They ate lunch together, and then said goodbye when Draco went to his afternoon class. Harry wanted to feel dejected that he didn’t get to spend his entire day with Draco, and that he didn’t get a goodbye kiss, but memories from last night kept him buoyant throughout the afternoon.

He went flying with Ginny during the only free hour left on the Quidditch pitch schedule that afternoon. Ravenclaw and Slytherin had an upcoming game and had booked the pitch completely. They savoured the last joint flight they would have for a while, then walked slowly back to the castle.

“How are you holding up?” Harry asked.

“Fine, I guess.”

“Has Blaise been a bother?”

“Not really,” she sighed, shaking her head. “Luna said he was interested in her style of meditation. They’re getting together Wednesday. I’m not sure how I feel about him cosying up to one of my friends.”

“To be fair, Luna is friends with anyone that shows the least amount of interest.” He hadn’t seen much of her this year, but he heard enough from Dean about Luna’s simple, forgiving nature and how others had responded well to her kindness this year.

“Yeah, I guess. And it’s not for me to decide who she’s friends with anyway.”

“Does she know about you and Blaise?”

Ginny rubbed at her eyes and frowned at the ground ahead of them. “Not exactly. I told her I was with someone last year that I didn’t want to talk about. She hasn’t asked about it since then, but she gave me -” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small embroidered square of white fabric, much like the one Dean carried. “It’s supposed to keep my thoughts calm.”

“Does it work?”

“It’s a piece of fabric, Harry. And it doesn’t even have charms on it.”

Harry laughed at her incredulous look. “Dean loves his.”

“Yeah, well, I think it’s not the _square_ that Dean loves.” She put the square back in her pocket. “I keep it on me in case she asks.”

Well that needed pondering. Dean hadn’t mentioned an interest in Luna even once, but he did see her frequently, especially when his nightmares acted up. “Have you thought anymore about Blaise? What you want to say to him?”

“I don’t know. He still makes me so mad.”

Harry thought back to Christmas, when he’d had to convince the Slytherins to do their part to mend the distance between the eighth years. How could he convince Ginny to do the same? Especially when she didn’t care if the distance was mended or not?

“That’s understandable,” Harry said. “But aren’t you at least a little curious? About how he’s doing now?” She bit her lip at his words and took on a considerate look. “You still think about him sometimes, don’t you?”

She stopped walking and stared at Harry for a long moment. “Yeah,” she said slowly, “I guess I have. A little… since you and I broke up.” She shook her head and started walking again. “But I keep coming back to the Carrows and how when it came down to it, he chose to save his own skin.”

“It wasn’t his _own_ skin. It was his mother’s. He was trying his best to protect her.”

Ginny growled, “Would you _please_ stop defending him? It doesn’t make me like him any _more_ and in fact makes me like _you_ less.”

“Sorry… I just think you’re being hard on him.” As soon as the words left his lips, Harry wanted to call them back.

“I’m being _hard_ on him?!”

“That’s not what I -”

“Fuck you, Harry! Fuck you and your self-righteous, golden boy attitude, all right? I’m so glad that the war is behind you and you’re living your ‘happily ever after,’ but it’s not the same for all of us. Okay? I can be as hard on him as I want because he was a complete bastard that fucked me, then fucked me over. And if I want to stay mad at him, I _will_!” She punctuated her last words with a harsh shove that unbalanced Harry. 

His feet got tangled in his broom and he fell, landing hard on his arse. Ginny stomped away, and he knew there’d be hell to pay if he followed. Limping slightly, he moped on his way back to the common room where he found Blaise and Draco going over Arithmancy calculations.

Draco’s concerned eyes scanned him quickly. “What happened to you?”

“I fell.” Harry gingerly sat at the table. “Er… actually,” he darted a glance at Blaise. “Ginny pushed me and I tripped on my broom. She’s… still pretty pissed about things.”

“I’m sorry,” Blaise said.

But Harry shrugged it off. “It’s not your fault. I don’t think I was being a good listener. I never seem to say the right thing to her.”

“Maybe,” Draco said with a kind smile, “that’s because you’re too focused on what _you_ want instead of what _she_ wants.”

“I want her to stop being hurt by all the shit from last year. Isn’t that what she wants?”

“It seems like right now, she just wants to be mad at Blaise. And you should let her. You can’t rush these things, Harry.”

Harry looked at Blaise, and found him nodding in agreement. “It’s not an ideal situation, but storming in like a know-it-all Gryffindor,” he winked at Harry, “isn’t going to work. She needs the subtlety of a long-term-planning Slytherin.”

“You don’t look like you have a plan. You don’t look like you’re doing anything,” Harry groused, reluctantly admitting to himself that Blaise might be at least a little right. 

“I learned patience and the value of careful cunning from my long parade of step-fathers. I’ll earn back her trust and win her heart in the end. Even with your Gryffindor meddling.”

“It’ll be all right,” Draco said. “How about we put this away and see what we can do with the Charms list.”

“Is that _really_ what you want to be doing right now?” Harry asked with an innocent expression.

“Yes, Harry, it is.” Draco gave him a stern look that quickly became a soft smile. “There’s time enough for that later, when everyone isn’t monitoring so closely.”

Reluctantly, Harry fetched his bag and worked through his notes on advanced household charms. But only because he hated when his friends sat to talk with him with their faces flushed red in a post-sex bliss. _Gross_ , he thought with a shudder. He certainly didn’t want to do the same to them, so he would work on Charms instead of seducing Draco.

But as soon as he could manage it after dinner, Harry dragged Draco back to his room to finish what they started that morning. He loved the feel of Draco’s weight against him, and the delicious heat of his mouth. He pulled his shirt off and moaned when Draco’s naked chest met his.

Draco squeezed Harry’s arse and growled, “These jeans are hideous.”

 _The fuck they were_ , Harry thought angrily. He loved these jeans and his initial instinct was to buck Draco off in annoyance, but instead he did his best to categorise it as the random nonsense Draco spouted while kissing. And indeed he was rewarded for his patience when Draco shoved Harry’s jeans and pants away and let his hands skim freely over Harry’s body with a delightful moan.

Definitely random nonsense.

Harry laughed at his odd boyfriend and lost himself to the feel of another body moving against his. Why couldn’t Draco be this free and open when they were in public. Harry let out a moan when Draco sucked hard just above his collarbone. Okay, maybe not _that_ in public, but surely other things?

It was a thought for another day. For now, Harry floated away on a river of sensual delights, then drifted off to sleep with Draco wrapped around him once again. 

\--------

For the first time since the odd tradition started, Harry didn’t want to go to the Gryffindor boys’ regular card game. In the months of inter-house living, these moments that recalled happy times in the Gryffindor dorm brought relief and a smile to Harry’s week. But now, it just meant time away from Draco.

Realistically he knew that he and Draco potentially had _years_ together. And that he needed to maintain his outside friendships no matter how exciting and new everything felt with Draco. But this change from friendship to romantic relationship made Harry happier than he’d been in… probably years. 

Determined to avoid being one of those sappy idiots that pined away for every moment spent away from his loved one - _well-liked one_ , he thought in a panic as it had only been a week or so and _love_ wasn’t even on the table yet, which was odd given he’d had Draco’s dick in his hand but whatever - he was going to the card game and he would have a good time without admitting how much he missed Draco.

“Honestly, Harry, what would eleven year old you say to you if he knew you were pining away for Draco- _fucking_ -Malfoy?” Seamus said with a rueful shake of his head.

“I’m not pining,” Harry said a little too fast. Because he knew Draco was using this time to work on some Potions notes for the next day’s brewing and wouldn’t be able to pay attention to Harry anyway.

Ron dealt out the cards and nodded, “We’ve already agreed to not eat the Beans tonight, in case you poisoned any of them to get out of staying longer than necessary.”

“We did not, Harry. We know you wouldn’t poison us,” Neville said, eating four of them at once. He faked choking, making the other boys laugh. “Harry,” he rasped, “save me before going off to snog Malfoy!”

“Fuck off. I can be away from Draco.” Harry picked up his cards. What a shit hand. “I spend whole hours away from him. Remember yesterday when I was in Hogsmeade with Madam Hooch?”

“You mean when you came back early because she ‘had a headache’ and wanted to ‘take a nap?’”

“That was real! You can ask her yourself!”

“Harry, you lunatic, you can’t poison Madam Hooch!”

“I didn’t poison anyone!” He tossed in two Beans. “This hand sucks but I’m in for two beans anyway.”

Seamus tossed his Beans in and said, “Doesn’t matter anyway, you’ll be seeing him all night, won’t you?”

His words had a bitter edge that did nothing to dim the grin Harry felt on his lips that surely made him look every bit the lunatic they accused him of being. It took him a few seconds to register the laughter fading from the other boys. “Yeah? So? Something wrong with that?”

“It’s just not fair,” Seamus said in a huff. “Girls and boys can’t share a room overnight together, but you’re both blokes so it’s okay? That’s bullshit.”

“Oh,” Harry said dumbly. “I hadn’t thought of that.” Although Seamus would look for any excuse to put distance between Harry and Draco, so Harry looked to Ron. “Is he right?”

“Of course I’m right,” Seamus said, his ire raised. “There are charms in the rooms that pop up at midnight until sometime in the morning. But there you are, waking up with _Draco_ every day this week!”

“What kind of charms?” Harry asked. Why hadn’t anyone mentioned it sooner? He’d not heard about any charms like that. Maybe because they weren’t relevant to him?

“It doesn’t matter what kind! Plus, you know, McGonagall said at the beginning we weren’t meant to be switching rooms and now he’s about to move in with you any day now? Again, unfair.”

“He’s hardly moving -” Harry began, but then changed his tune after Seamus’s face darkened. “No, yeah, I see… what you mean…” Harry chewed his lip. “Yeah, okay, I guess no more sleepovers.”

Ron tried to lighten the mood. “You’re just going to have to sneak around like the rest of us.”

Neville and Dean grinned at that, and even Seamus seemed to let the tense moment pass, so Harry didn’t want to argue the point further. He let the conversation flow on, with the boys joking about their favourite hiding places around the castle and the times they’d nearly been caught.

When they got tired of cards, the boys drifted back to the common room, and Harry’s thoughts simmered with their complaints about Draco. Because when it came down to it, Harry didn’t exactly have the same opportunities they did. Seamus and Lavender immediately fell into a single armchair and locked lips as though reuniting after years apart, despite being in full view of everyone. 

Hannah greeted Neville with a hug and a cheery, “Hello, love!” and draped her legs across his lap, while still talking to Parvati and Michael. During their lessons, loveseats were more common than armchairs now and various couples frequently sat together in a similar way. 

Scanning the common room, Ron’s eyes lit up when he found Hermione with Lisa, Daphne, and Ollie. Ron kissed the top of Hermione’s head and laced their fingers together, easily joining the conversation already in progress as he sat next to her.

Harry couldn’t do any of those things, and that hardly seemed fair to him. 

During the day, Harry could feel the eyes of the school on him. Not just the random students that wanted to see what famous-Harry-Potter was doing, but his friends too. Perhaps they were all caught up in the novelty of two boys in a relationship. Lavender had said there were other gay people at the school, but Harry had never seen any. He made a convenient target for the curious, and he didn’t want everyone evaluating the kisses he gave to Draco or listening to the pet names he might use.

And then there was Harry’s own uncertainty. He’d never had to ask for kisses or hugs or anything from Ginny. She offered them freely and he soaked it up like a sponge. Harry craved affection but didn’t know how to ask for it, or sometimes what to do with it when he got it. He’d never been good at giving or receiving comfort, and that had led to him losing opportunities with Draco - those moments when he might kiss him hello or goodbye, or hold his hand on the way to the Great Hall. What did Harry know about such things?

Finally, there was Draco himself. Considering how passionate and demonstrative Draco could be in private, he kept a tight leash on his emotions in public. Those moments when they were alone contrasted starkly with the quiet, sedate smiles Draco gave him at meals or in class. It made Harry wonder about when they were younger and Draco sat in the centre of awed students and held court like a spoiled little prince. Where did loud, dramatic Draco go? Did he have the same uncertainty as Harry in trying to navigate a new kind of relationship?

What was it keeping them at a friendly distance during the day - public perception, Harry’s uncertainty and inexperience, or Draco’s own hesitance?

Only one way to find out, but his words were lost as soon as the curtains closed around his bed and Draco pulled him into a deep kiss that set his blood humming. Moving at a snail’s pace, Draco removed their shirts and gave Harry gentle caresses between kisses.

“Speed it up,” Harry finally growled, “we only have until midnight.”

“Is that when we turn into pumpkins?” Draco asked with a laugh against Harry’s skin.

“What?”

Draco’s proud grin only made Harry all the more confused. “Cinderella,” Draco said. “At midnight her carriage turned back into a pumpkin.”

“Right… yeah. How do you know about Cinderella?” Harry shimmied out of his jeans, only half paying attention. He fucking hated that story.

“I read a lot of muggle fairy tales over the summer.”

“That’s - why - it doesn’t matter right now,” he said, eager to change the subject. “The boys said they’re not allowed in their girlfriends’ rooms past midnight, so I said we would follow the same rule.”

Draco sat back on his heels and frowned. “Why would you do that?”

“Because it’s not fair. Apparently the rooms are charmed so that at midnight girls return to their rooms and boys do the same. It’s not fair that we get to stay together just because we’re both boys.”

“Fuck them,” Draco said, leaning in to kiss Harry again. “If I’d been assigned this room instead of next door, no one would even know.”

Harry ducked away. He couldn’t let Draco distract him when they needed to be on the same page. “But they _do_ know and it’s not fair. Couples split up at midnight. That’s the rule. And we’re going to follow it.”

“ _Fine_ but we’re talking about this tomorrow when we’re not on a deadline.”

“Agreed.”

They had about forty minutes until midnight, but it didn’t feel like nearly enough time. Harry wanted _hours_ to touch and kiss, to whisper sweet nothings that never sounded as seductive out loud as they did in his head. He wanted Draco to laugh and respond with his own less-than-witty remarks. He wanted to fall asleep wrapped up in Draco, and wake up with the weight of him still anchoring Harry to the world.

With minutes to spare, Harry opened the door to his room to say goodbye to Draco. If bravery and confidence were easier to come by, he could give Draco a peck on the lips and a squeeze of his hand in goodbye, heedless of eyes that might see.

He had to settle for a distant wave goodbye as Draco walked away.

\--------

The weekend lay ahead of them, brimming with possibilities and hours and hours of nothing to fill it. With the pitch booked up solid, Harry couldn’t go flying, and he was glad of the excuse so he could spend more of his time with Draco.

They went to Hogsmeade, and smiled for a _Daily Prophet_ reporter. A silent hex at a nearby tree distracted the reporter long enough that Harry could cast a Notice-Me-Not Charm and disappear with Draco down a nearby alley. 

Draco wrinkled his nose. “Clever, but that’s not going to work every time. You’re going to have to give an interview at some point.”

“I know, but I want to put it off as long as possible.” He pointed into the nearby forest. “Want to go for a walk where no one can see us?”

“I absolutely do,” Draco said with a wicked grin.

Harry rolled his eyes. “I don’t mean for fooling around. It’s freezing out here!” But already the thought of kissing Draco spread a delicious warmth through him. Last night had been a lifetime ago.

“So? We have magic.” They moved among the trees, and Draco looked around quickly. Seeing no one about, he took Harry’s hand.

Harry swung their joined hands, silently lamenting their gloves that kept them from being skin to skin. “I like holding your hand.”

“You do?” Draco asked, his cheeks turning a delightful pink. “Me too.”

“Why - why don’t we do that more often?” Voicing the question made Harry feel vulnerable, but it needed asking. Thankfully, Draco didn’t think it odd.

“I know you don’t like people staring at you,” Draco shrugged. “I guess to me, that means not doing anything that might draw their eye.”

“Oh.” That was considerate, and unfortunately necessary. Fucking public, pissing Harry off at every turn. Fame could kiss his arse.

“And I noticed you get tense, sometimes, when there are a lot of people around. Granger and Weasley are very careful not to touch you then, and I assumed you would want me to do the same.”

A sinking feeling settled in Harry’s stomach. Fucking hell, it _was_ his fault. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Although you didn’t seem to mind Ginny hanging all over you, so it’s maybe a bit confusing.” Draco’s soft smile asked Harry for answers to the mystery of Ginny Weasley.

“Ginny - she was just naturally affectionate. She didn’t need my input on it and always assumed I wanted what she wanted.”

“And did you?”

“Mostly? My magic does lash out sometimes, if the timing is bad.” Out here in the sparkling snow and cold breezes, Harry didn’t want to talk about his lack of affection growing up. A shiver ran through him and he sighed. “Ron and Hermione have been hit by it, so they know to keep their distance. Ginny kind of missed out on most of those moments. Until the end.”

Draco nodded, and thankfully didn’t prod anymore. “In any case, my parents weren’t very demonstrative and tended to disparage those that were. My father says it shows a lack of restraint. So I guess some of it is early childhood training.”

“So even if I was a girl, and this was a - a regular relationship - then you still wouldn’t?”

“Maybe. I only really ever dated Pansy and that fizzled out pretty quickly. We were some kind of friends for a while but that didn’t survive last year.”

Harry remembered a brief moment on the train in sixth year, Draco’s head in Parkinson’s lap, and the way she stroked his hair. But that was a private moment, and not for the whole school to see. He wanted to be jealous, but after the way Draco kissed him, he knew no girl could possibly be a threat. Especially one Draco wasn’t friends with anymore. “What happened to her?”

“She fucked off to France. Married the wizard her parents found for her before he caught on to her selfish behaviour here.”

“During the final battle? She was probably afraid, right?” Harry said. “It’s hardly selfish to want to live.” Everyone was afraid during the final battle. He didn’t blame her for wanting to turn him over to Voldemort, especially when he needed to go to Voldemort in the end anyway. Of course he hadn’t found the diadem by then so… perhaps not.

“She was a bitch, Harry. I guarantee she didn’t care about you, the students, the battle, or even Voldemort and his psychotic plans. She only cared about getting out alive and damn everyone that stood in her way.” 

“Those are - harsh words, Draco.”

“She deserves them. She never cared about anyone. You think I don’t know her better than you do? As I said, we were friends of a sort for years. But she only wanted me for what I could offer her. As soon as I lost what she considered valuable, I lost her as well. And good riddance.”

The day was too beautiful to waste moping over ex-girlfriends and lack of affection. Harry pulled Draco closer so he could wrap an arm around his waist and kissed his cheek. “I’m glad you came back this year. Glad we have this.”

“Me too.” Draco gave him a hug and rubbed their noses together. “Your pink cheeks are adorable.” He kissed one of Harry’s cheeks, then the other.

“My nose is about to start running.” He scrunched up his nose when Draco hit it with a charm that tickled. “What was that?!” He tried sniffing but his nose felt blocked up. Well almost, he could breathe just fine. “What did you do to my nose?”

“It’s a mild charm to block it. So you don’t get snot all over me.” Before Harry could react, Draco caressed his cheek and grazed Harry’s lips with his thumb. “You are so pretty,” Draco whispered.

“Stop calling me pretty, berk.”

“Mm, my pretty boy,” Draco smiled. He kissed Harry then, before he could offer further protest. Harry let the comment slide, too caught up in the overwhelming heat of Draco’s mouth. The stark contrast to the cold air around them heightened each slide of his tongue, each puff of his breath against Harry.

His gloved hands ran up and down Harry’s back, and then Draco unbuttoned Harry’s coat to slip his hands inside. “I know charms,” Draco said. “For frostbite. So we don’t lose your cock.”

Harry huffed a confused laugh. “Erm, okay?” 

The next second his confusion evaporated because Draco began working his jeans open. Harry grabbed Draco’s wrist, halting his movements. “Wait, we’re not - we can’t do that here. Not now?”

“Yes, now,” Draco moaned, squeezing Harry’s growing erection through his pants.

“Draco, it’s freezing outside and we’re not that far from Hogsmeade. The reporter, remember? He could be following us.”

“A reporter?”

Harry leaned back and snapped his fingers in Draco’s face. “Hey, remember? The reporter that took our picture?”

“Yes,” Draco said, shaking his head. “In Hogsmeade.”

“Good, yes.” Harry pressed a kiss to Draco’s lips. “With me now? We can’t let things go too far.”

“Can’t you set some wards?” At Harry’s look, Draco groaned, “Ugh, this fucking school! I can’t wait until we’re out of here and can fuck around whenever we want.” He looked down at Harry’s jeans, and then yanked the waistband so he could button them back up. 

“I’ll get the zip!” Harry said, backing away in a panic. That was all he needed - for Draco’s angry movements to catch his cock in the zipper. 

“Ugh, first your friends are cock-blocking us, and now all of Hogsmeade…”

Harry laughed and nuzzled Draco’s nose. “You’re so funny when you’re not getting any.”

Draco blew raspberries at him and rolled his eyes. “Like you’re not thinking the same thing.”

“At least it’s quiet here,” Harry said, tugging Draco back into walking aimlessly through the woods. The creaking of trees and rustling of leaves washed over both of them.

“I wish I could stay with you,” Draco said quietly. “At night. Even if we’re not - you know, getting off together.”

“Me too,” Harry sighed, wishing they didn’t have to have this conversation _again_. Draco had complained about it every night since Harry first brought it up.

“I just don’t see why they care where I’m sleeping.”

“To them, it’s not fair. That we get to stay together all night, but they can’t do the same.”

“So what? They get to snog all afternoon in the common room and no one says anything, right? We’re certainly not doing that!”

“No, but…” Harry kicked at a small mound of snowy leaves. “Everything always has to be difficult for me. Always different.”

Draco squeezed his hand and gave him an encouraging smile. Shaking off his whine, Draco said briskly, “Well at least this time your ‘different’ is to my benefit. I like it.”

“I like it too,” Harry smiled and kissed Draco again.

“It’ll be better when we’re out of school and on our own.”

Warmth bloomed in Harry’s belly. “Yeah? You have plans for us?” Harry had already reconsidered leaving England, but didn’t have much more than a vague idea.

“Actually, I do.” Draco pulled Harry into a hug so he could nibble at Harry’s jaw, and up to his ear. He whispered, “It doesn’t involve a lot of clothes.”

Harry snorted a laugh, and tickled Draco, which had little effect with the layers of winter-wear between them. They ended up wrestling on the wet ground, until Harry straddled Draco’s hips and pinned his wrists to the ground. Harry grazed Draco’s lips with a light kiss and looked down at the smiling face that had grown so dear to him so quickly. 

“Tell me,” Harry said, his breath hitching. “Something real. About when we leave school.”

“We’ll get a little cottage, maybe in Richmond? So you can still fly, but I’m near enough to the city to finish my Potions Mastery.”

“Aren’t you a bit too much of a country boy to live in the city?” Harry stood and helped Draco to his feet.

Draco dried their clothes with his wand, saying, “Wiltshire might be in the country, but magical people tend to congregate in and around Diagon. I’ve been to the muggle village near the Manor exactly twice in my lifetime.”

“Just twice?”

“You think my parents wanted to rub elbows with the muggles? Not hardly,” Draco said. “My father had two land disputes to settle and he brought me along to watch him sign paperwork both times. That was it. I’m much more comfortable in the city.”

“Good to know. What else?”

“You’ll decorate with hideous Gryffindor sentimentality, and I’ll remind you we are out of school and House pride no longer matters. And then we’ll have to redecorate in what ends up being some eclectic style that has no rhyme or reason yet somehow still works so it feels like home.”

Harry huffed a broken sigh. “What - what else?”

“I have research to do.” Draco put his arm around Harry’s waist. “So we’ll visit fun places where I can collect samples of locally sourced ingredients and you can eat whatever regional fried dough is available -”

“Fried dough?”

“Yes, every culture has some kind of fried pastry thing and I think it’s a reasonable life goal to want to try them all. After my Mastery is done, we’ll decide if we want to settle somewhere else more permanently. Maybe here in Hogsmeade, if you want to continue your apprenticeship with Madam Hooch.”

“I _am_ enjoying my lessons with her… but… I don’t know if it’s what I want full time?”

“Some time away, both from the school and from England, will be good for you. Perhaps help you gain some perspective. We can do it together, around my research. In a year, you’ll know better what you want. If it’s not flying lessons and broom maintenance, that’s all right. We’re young enough you’ve got time to figure it out.”

“I think I love you,” Harry said. The words slipped out without thought, but felt right in the moment nonetheless.

Especially when Draco beamed at him and said, “Good, I think the same.” They shared a long, slow kiss and Draco whispered, “Are you _sure_ we can’t -”

“Let’s go back to my room. Tag, you’re it.” Harry shoved Draco away and ran off laughing, with Draco’s indignant shriek close behind him.

In seconds, Draco closed the gap between them, wrapped Harry in a tight hug, and twirled them into the tight squeeze of Apparition that dropped them right at the gates of the school.

“Eager?” Harry asked with a laugh.

“Always.”

But the sudden view of the school, and the possibility of being seen, dulled their sparkling laughter. By the time they made it to their corridor, the magic of the moment had faded away and they were once again separated by societal pressures and habits built over a lifetime.

More sober and subdued, they joined Millie, Daphne, Ollie, and Justin by the fire instead of going to Harry’s room. And the refrain sounded over and over in Harry’s head. _It isn’t fair, it isn’t fair, it isn’t fair_. 

But what could they do to change it?

\--------

Sunday morning’s _Daily Prophet_ featured a nice picture of Draco and Harry smiling together in Hogsmeade. The accompanying article didn’t have much to say about it, mainly because the reporter couldn’t admit that Harry had given him the slip. 

Draco traced the edges of the photo and article with his wand, severing it neatly from the newspaper. “For our scrapbook,” he said with a wink to Harry.

“You’re actually making a scrapbook?” Harry laughed.

“It’s more like a collect-things-in-a-box-and-hope-they’ll-arrange-themselves-into-a-book situation.”

“Of course.” Harry read through the clipping one more time. “I’m glad they wrote that I’m happy, and clearly not under some kind of enchantment.”

“And they referred to me as ‘ _reformed_ Death Eater,’ which I consider a win.” Draco plucked the clipping out of Harry’s hands and tucked it into his pocket. “I suppose my Ministry-mandated re-education met with their approval.” He smiled at Harry, then paused at the fond smile Harry gave him. “What?”

“Nothing, it’s just - you look so adorable, eating your eggs and clipping photos of us and… it’s hard to believe a year ago we were - where we were.” His words made Draco blush, so Harry moved on to something else. “Tell me about your summer. You’ve mentioned it a few times and it’s confusing.”

“Oh, erm…” Draco glanced across the table at Blaise, who gave him an encouraging nod. “I stayed - with a Ministry-approved muggleborn witch and her mostly muggle family.”

“And?” Blaise asked, dragging out the word in a leading tone.

“ _And_ then I stayed in muggle London for four days on my own.” Draco took a bite of toast and chomped noisily. 

“And did that go all right?” Harry asked.

Draco swallowed hard and pasted a smile on his face, “Of course it did. I stayed with the Fischer family for almost two weeks. I pretended to be a visiting German relative, so I wouldn’t have to speak English to their neighbours -”

“You speak German?” Harry asked. “How many languages do you know?”

“Six? I speak English, obviously, Italian with Blaise, French with Theo. I learned German and a spattering of Russian when I was younger, because my father wanted to send me to Durmstrang. I also speak a fair amount of Spanish and a little Portuguese. So four languages really well, two kind of so-so, and one just a tiny bit.”

“Incredible, I barely speak English sometimes. How was it, with the Fischers?”

“It was a learning curve. Mrs Fischer took me out shopping, explained about their money and credit cards. Mr Fischer is a muggle, and a primary school teacher, so he gave me a few lessons in muggle history and some of their customs and etiquette, which really aren’t far off from ours. I learned about electricity and how to operate a toaster and a microwave and cook a few things without magic. It was more-or-less nothing like my father had described.”

Harry set Lucius Malfoy aside to ask about later. “And then you went to London?”

“The Ministry gave me a large sum of money from my vault and set me up in a hotel. They wanted me to experience muggles on my own, and see if I could do all right. And I did. I went shopping and sat in the park to watch the children play and interact with their parents. It was fun. Unexpected, and fun. And it changed me, but all in good ways, I think. Afterwards, I went back to the Manor for a few weeks, and then we came here.”

“If only you’d experienced it sooner. No telling what might have happened.” Harry didn’t want to add ‘between us’ or ‘with the war,’ but he thought both sentiments. So much would have been different in his world if Voldemort hadn’t crashed through like a bombarda hex.

Draco’s smile fell, “It’s not so simple. I - first I had to experience the worst the magical world had to offer, you know? I saw my parents humiliated and tortured. A maniac took over my home and lives in my nightmares. All the beautiful and perfect soap bubbles my parents built around me popped, one by one, until I was left with nothing.”

“Draco… I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be. The Fischers stepped in and welcomed me, despite my past. And they showed me the world didn’t have to be so dark. That we can exist together and be happy. My father was wrong about muggles, but he only had the worldview _his_ father gave him. It was enough for him, why would he move beyond it? I suppose in some sense, I’m lucky to be offered a new point of view.”

“That’s… actually, a nice silver lining to the war? Do you suppose others feel that way?”

“I don’t know. My father’s generation was fed a lot of tripe about muggles. It’ll be hard to change their minds. But muggles aren’t so bad, and really quite clever at how they’ve developed without magic. It won’t be long before their technologies outstrip ours.”

“Incredible - Draco Malfoy, defender of muggle technology!”

“Oh Harry,” Draco said with a wide smile that had Harry’s heart thumping, “have you ever played a Nintendo sixty-four?”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s tough being an author and having to write the occasional things you don’t know about. I know nothing at all about manga, except that it’s read from right to left. I googled “manga from the 90’s” and picked the first thing that caught my eye.

Harry should have known the question, “What are we doing today?” would be met with, “Homework.”

For students that technically had _no_ homework, they certainly spent a lot of their time bent over dusty old tomes for research. Draco and Theo had come to an end of the required NEWTs list, and were working their way through the year one Potions Mastery list they’d created. While Harry wanted to praise his boyfriend for his diligent work towards a rewarding goal, he also wanted to take a walk around the lake or hole up together in a hidden place alone.

But Draco had seven classes to Harry’s four, so he could hardly fault Draco for needing extra time to study. They spent the afternoon in the eighth years’ classroom, with a few of their friends coming and going every so often. Draco worked on potion proofs with Theo, and Harry mostly doodled on his parchment. One by one, students left the classroom to enjoy the last of the afternoon before dinner. Theo, just as studious as Draco, was finally dragged away by Tracey, leaving Draco and Harry alone.

“I thought they’d never leave!” Harry sighed as he slammed shut the book he wasn’t reading.

“Wait, just let me finish…” Draco scribbled quickly, then said, “Done!” He tossed his quill down and shoved the table away from their loveseat. 

Harry half straddled Draco’s lap and kissed him lightly. “Want to go back to my room if you’re done?”

“I’m not really done, but we’ve probably got a few minutes before someone else comes in here, right?”

“Fuck,” Harry mumbled. “Whatever, I’ll take it.” He shot a small charm at the door, to warn them of anyone approaching, and then kissed Draco, burying his hands in the silky strands of his hair.

Draco’s hand slid up Harry’s hip, and just under the hem of his shirt. For a second, Harry thought Draco might try and remove the shirt entirely, but he must have realised they didn’t have much time and settled for trailing his fingers up and down Harry’s back. “I love being naked with you,” Draco whispered.

Harry wholeheartedly agreed. About a hundred times a day he thought about what it would be like to lick and suck the cock he’d had in his hand every day of the last week. Nerves about his lack of experience kept him from making that leap, and he hoped that soon Draco would cross that bridge for them - either by demanding it of Harry, or else sucking Harry off first.

His eagerness became impossible to hide. Draco pressed his thigh up, rubbing it against the bulge in Harry’s jeans. “Mm, don’t do this to me,” Draco whined. “Not when you know someone’s going to interrupt at any -”

He didn’t even finish speaking before a trilling sound issued from Harry’s wand. In seconds, Harry leaped off Draco’s lap, and Draco pulled the table back into place. When Ron and Hermione came in, Harry had finished wiping his mouth clean, and Draco had his quill in hand, peering at his textbook again.

“You two still at it?” Ron asked. Harry hoped his eyes weren’t popping out of his head. “You’re going to give Hermione a run for her money.”

Draco and Harry looked at each other and started laughing uncontrollably.

“What?” Hermione asked at the same time Ron asked, “What’s so funny?” 

Harry wiped his eyes. “Nothing, we’re just - Draco’s outlining some potions and I’m…” He looked at his book and realised he didn’t even know what he was meant to be looking up. “I’m just catching up on reading.”

“Oh good,” Hermione beamed at him. “Well Draco, when you’re finished with that, I wanted to look over some of the Wrights equations with you for Arithmancy? Mandy said you’d worked out a shortcut?”

“Certainly, I can finish this later.” He set aside his roll of parchment and took the scroll Hermione offered.

Ron pointed at Harry’s book. “Is that for Transfiguration?”

Harry glanced at the chapter heading. “Er, yeah. Conjuring things you’ve never seen. It’s mad difficult.” He shoved the book across the table. “Have at it, I’m done for now.”

“You know, if you’re done reading for class,” Draco said, digging in his bag. “I have something else for you.”

“You mean you’ve had something more interesting in that bag this whole time and you just let me suffer?”

“It builds character, Harry.” Draco sat up with a triumphant smile. “Aha! Here you are.” He handed Harry a slender book with a black-haired cartoon boy on it. “It’s manga. Yu Yu Kakusho.” He tapped the back cover. “Tell me if he had green eyes that he wouldn’t look just like you.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Is this Japanese?”

“Yes, Captain Obvious, it is. But if you give it a translation spell…” Draco swirled his wand over the book and the Japanese characters melted and reformed into English words. “It’s not a perfect fix, but it’ll give you a good idea. It’s about a kid that dies unexpectedly and becomes a supernatural kind of detective. There’s martial arts and demons and stuff. Start reading it from this side, right to left.”

Harry sat back and flipped through the book to look at some of the pictures. Ron, finding a comic book infinitely more interesting than Transfiguration, moved his chair next to Harry to look over his shoulder. Harry ended up twisted sideways against the arm of the loveseat so they could both read together, which grew uncomfortable almost immediately. 

He bent his knees and rested his feet on the loveseat next to him. Hoping his movements were subtle enough, he extended his legs, pushing his feet across Draco’s lap. Draco shifted, making space for Harry’s legs. He rested a hand on Harry’s ankle and gave it a squeeze, but kept writing out his equations with Hermione.

Ron didn’t say anything either, so Harry relaxed and read his manga with Ron. With his feet in his boyfriend’s lap, he thought with a smile. It was the best study session Harry had in ages and he hated having to go to dinner an hour later.

As they walked to the Great Hall, Harry stayed close enough to Draco that their shoulders, elbows, and hands occasionally brushed. For a few seconds, Draco laced the backs of their fingers together. They shared a smile and Draco lifted one eyebrow in question. Harry didn’t quite understand the silent communication, but he turned his hand in Draco’s so they were palm to palm and they could hold hands properly. Draco’s smile widened and he tightened his grip on Harry.

Harry reached into his pocket to subtly palm his wand, and shot a tiny spell at one of his trainers. “My shoe’s untied,” he said out loud, halting Draco with a pull on his hand. Harry waved to Ron and Hermione. “Go ahead, we’ll catch up.”

As soon as they headed down the next flight of stairs, Harry pushed Draco against the wall, next to a suit of armor that would at least partially shield them from view, and kissed him hard. “I’m holding your hand,” Harry whispered, his heart beating wildly. 

“I know, it’s my hand,” Draco laughed back.

“I like it. A lot.” Maybe he should feel silly for finding so much joy in something so simple but, well, he was too happy to hold back.

Draco nipped at Harry’s lips. “Good. Later.” His tongue slid sensually against Harry’s while his hips rocked gently. “We’ll definitely pick this up later.” 

As they got to the Great Hall, Ron rolled his eyes. “Your trainer’s still untied, idiot. You get three points for set-up, but zero for follow-through.” Hermione blushed and shot a charm at Harry’s feet and the laces curled into a neat little bow. “Maybe I’ll allow three points for technique, given the smile on your boyfriend’s face. Six out of ten - try harder next time.”

Now it was Harry’s turn to blush, and he loved it.

Caring about food and the idle chit-chat by the common room fire became more difficult with every minute that passed. He didn’t want polite-public-distance Draco anymore, he wanted naked-writhing-in-his-arms Draco. And after an eternity, he finally got it.

They made short work of their clothing as soon as Harry warded the curtains around his bed. How could Draco linger so long with their friends when they had _this_ waiting for them? Harry spent his entire day thinking ahead to this moment, when his skin burned hot with the trail of Draco’s fingers, when the rising tide of an orgasm crashed over him and eased all his aches, when the triumphant grin lit up Draco’s face and he followed with a moan..

He loved the soft caresses that followed, when Draco would hold him and whisper to him of his past sorrows, his present happiness, and his future hopes and dreams. He wanted the beautiful picture of a life together that Draco painted for him. And he hated that it would all come to an end before midnight each night.

School couldn’t end fast enough to suit him.

\--------

Something changed in the way they moved around each other after the hand-holding in the corridors. They sat a little closer together during their lessons and evenings in the common room. Harry would rest his bent knee on Draco’s thigh. Maybe Draco would lay a hand on Harry’s thigh. Once or twice, Draco put an arm around his shoulder and Harry leaned into him, close enough to kiss him on the cheek if he were braver.

During Charms, Draco fiddled with one of his parchment weights until Harry rested his hand on top of Draco’s. He twisted Draco’s signet ring until Draco turned his hand up and they held hands, right there in front of everyone. Harry’s giddy smile lasted all afternoon.

On Thursday, Draco walked Harry down to Hogmseade for his lessons with Madam Hooch, and held his hand the entire way. The next day their picture appeared in the paper again, joined hands swinging between them, and Draco clipped it to add to their not-a-scrapbook.

The school turned its collective eye on the Quidditch pitch on Saturday, for the Ravenclaw-Slytherin match. Harry didn’t care who won, although obviously his boyfriend would be in a better mood if the flags waved green at the end. He just wanted the pitch to be free again so he would have an easier time flying.

The two teams were well matched, with the students’ flags changing frequently from blue to green as the quaffle rapidly changed hands. Few points were scored with both keepers playing at their best. And in the end, as it frequently did, it came down to the seeker. Slytherin’s seeker managed to grab the snitch without alerting anyone, so that he was halfway around the pitch in his victory lap before the announcer took notice.

“We won!” Draco yelled, his voice drowned in the cheers of his fellow Slytherins. “We won!” He grinned at Harry and pulled him in by the shoulders for a hard kiss. “Oh! Sorry,” he said softly, his eyes bright with excitement. 

“Sorry for what? It’s brilliant! You won!” 

“The kiss… and everyone…”

“I don’t care,” Harry said, wrapping his arms around Draco’s waist. “I’m happy for you.”

“Me too! We needed a win.” Draco pressed another chaste kiss to Harry’s lips, then turned to give Blaise, and then Tracey, celebratory hugs. He rested his arm lightly around Harry’s waist while the Slytherins made tentative plans to join their House in celebrating the victory.

Draco wavered back and forth on whether he would go, until Harry pushed him on. “Go, have fun with your House. I’ll meet up with you later.” He winked at Draco, kissed his cheek, then left to find Ron and Hermione.

After a late lunch in the Great Hall, Seamus got a group together to head back to the pitch. They didn’t have enough for a proper Quidditch game, but speed racing sounded just as good to the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor boys. After a few circuits, Ollie started having trouble with his broom again. Harry had just lit up the threads of magic on the broom to see if he could fix it when Ron nudged him. “Your boyfriend’s coming.”

He pointed at the path to school, and Harry grinned to see Draco and Blaise making their way down. He let the magic drop as Seamus grumbled, “Fucking Slytherins. Don’t they have a party to be at?”

“They can fly with us if they want,” Ron said. “We’ve got plenty of brooms.”

Seamus mumbled something else to Neville, who rolled his eyes. Harry ignored both of them as he met Draco on the path. 

Draco took his hand and said, “We’re too old for parties, so we thought we’d join you lot.”

“How’d you know we’d be flying?”

“Why wouldn’t you be?” Draco gave his hand a squeeze, making Harry smile even wider. Everything seemed better with Draco around.

Blaised nodded in greeting at Ernie and Ollie. “Is there a game on, or just flying?”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Harry whispered to Draco. He kissed his cheek and led him to the pile of brooms. “You can use one of these. Or mine, if you like. I’m going to take a break for the next round, see if I can fix Ollie’s again.”

“Mm, I’d love to use your broom,” Draco said with a wink and air kiss.

Harry snorted and smacked him on the arse as he returned to Ollie. Blaise also winked at him as he passed, joining Draco in picking a broom. Dean whistled and got the next round of races started with Ernie, Justin, and Ron. 

“Are you going to help Dean referee this one?” Neville asked Seamus.

“Sure as shit can’t handle being on the ground anymore so yeah, I guess I will.” Seamus took to the air before he’d finished speaking.

“What’s up his arse all of a sudden?” Harry asked, lighting up Ollie’s broom to examine the charms on it.

Neville sighed and kicked at the dirt. “Could be any number of things. I think he just likes making himself miserable.”

“Seamus is really sensitive to… “ Ollie began tentatively. “You know, you and Draco have been a lot _closer_ this week. It takes a little getting used to.” He kept his eyes on his broom, as though afraid of drawing Harry’s ire.

“And does that bother you?” Harry asked with as little rancor as he could manage. Draco and Blaise, with brooms in hand, looked in their direction. Harry waved them off to circle the pitch. He didn’t want them overhearing anything hurtful his friends might say.

“No!” Ollie said immediately, eyes finally meeting Harry’s. “No, not me. I think it’s - sort of nice, actually. That you’re happy. And… it’s not like you’re -”

“Snogging on the common room sofa in front of half our year?” Harry asked bitterly, thinking of Seamus and Lavender, and their propensity for doing exactly that. 

Ollie blushed a deep red, clearly thinking the same thing. “I hold hands with Daphne. Daphne holds hands with Millicent. It’s all the same, right?”

“The kisses and arse-smacking is new though,” Neville added. “It’s kind of…”

“Kind of what?” Harry asked. He yanked hard on a yellow thread of magic, making the entire broom wobble. But it worked and the lines lay straight once again. “Kind of like when Hannah sits in your lap most evenings?” He dropped the colourful magic and handed the broom to Ollie. “Or like Tracey and Theo kissing goodbye when he heads to the lab? Maybe Parvati and Michael, whispering and laughing together instead of working on their research?”

“It’s not that,” Neville insisted. “Well, not that _exactly_. He’s just being Seamus. Grumpy and suspicious of everything. He doesn’t trust the Slytherins aren’t up to something.”

“For fuck’s sake it’s been what? Eight months since we came back?” Harry did a quick count on his fingers. “Six months we’ve all been living together, and he can’t see they’re different?”

Neville’s face became more serious, and Harry wondered how many of these arguments belonged to Seamus alone. “Harry, last year -”

“I know! Last year was shit! I get it!”

“No, I don’t think you do. Because you weren’t here. Maybe the Great Hall reminds you of the final battle, or maybe feasts and celebrations. But Seamus - he sees a special table set up for students being denied a meal as part of their punishment. You fly around the Quidditch pitch, remembering past games and races. Seamus sees students made to run laps until they vomit or pass out. He gets to avoid the fourth floor corridor where he almost died, but he has to walk past the spot where his girlfriend nearly lost her life every single day. It’s not the same for us as it is for you. We fought for our lives in this castle in ways you never did.”

By the end of Neville’s speech, Harry’s throat had completely closed up. “You’re right,” Harry choked out. “You’re right, I wasn’t here. And - I haven’t appreciated how hard this is for him. For all of you.”

Neville sighed. “We love you Harry, and I know we all had it bad. We’re not trying to compare. But they represent the worst of what happened to us, even if they weren’t directly the source. Cordially sharing a space with them is a far cry from eagerly welcoming them into our lives. We’re trying. We’re just asking you to meet us halfway.”

“Okay. I guess - I’ll keep that in mind.”

“He’s trying, I promise. It was just easier for him. Before,” Neville said, his voice rusty and small. “When we could tease you and Ron about dating his sister.”

Harry rubbed at the scar on his forehead. “We’re walking in circles, keep coming back to the same things. I’m different now. It’s all different now. And we’re all trying to find our happy endings.” Harry summoned a broom from the pile. It hit his palm with a satisfying smack. “And right now, for me, that means Draco. I’ll try not to shove it so hard in his face.” 

He flew off to meet Draco and Blaise, both hovering near the goalposts with Dean. He stopped a little too hard, a little too close to Draco so their bodies collided. Draco laughed and steadied his broom, “All right there?”

“I’ve got next race. You in?” Harry asked, pushing away his confusion and anger as he basked in the glow of his boyfriend’s smile.

“On that old thing? This is a quality Cleansweep eleven I’ve got here. _Very_ well maintained. You don’t stand a chance.”

Harry wanted desperately to hop on Draco’s broom and fly them away from all these eyes and all these opinions giving him all these hassles. Instead, he laughed and said, “Loser buys dinner.”

“You’re on,” Draco replied eagerly.

And that was how Harry found himself a few hours later, pulling out his wallet at the Three Broomsticks to pay for two large helpings of Shepherd’s Pie and two pints of Dragon’s Fire pale ale. 

“We could get a room here, you know. Stay the night,” Harry said in a low voice to Draco.

Draco drained the last of his beer and eyed him suggestively. “Here? That’s a big, bold move, wouldn’t you say?”

Harry thought for a moment, and rubbed his neck to ease the mounting tension there. A subtle glance around the small pub met several pairs of eyes staring in their direction. “Yeah, maybe not. Want to plan another trip to Edinburgh? Just for one night?”

“Why not the whole weekend? Next weekend. A one month anniversary trip.”

“Is it lame to celebrate one month together?”

“Not if it gets me laid.” Draco wiped his mouth. “Speaking of… let’s get out of here.” He seductively bit his lip with a wink and inclined his head to the door.

The temperature had dropped considerably while they ate so Draco wrapped them both in a warming charm for the walk back to school. Harry loved being draped in someone else’s warming charm. Like being given a cosy quilt, it showed someone else’s love and attention. It would be sad when spring came and they were no longer needed. Although a cooling charm served the same purpose. He smiled at Draco, who then put an arm around Harry’s shoulder, prompting Harry to slide his arm around Draco’s waist.

“Are you doing all right?” Draco asked. “You seemed distracted during our flight this afternoon.”

“Just… something Neville said.” He glanced at Draco, then at the ground ahead with a sigh. “Seamus is having a hard time of it - adjusting to us.”

“The kiss at the Quidditch game? In my defense, that was an accident.”

Harry laughed, “Which one? The first one, or the second one? Or both of them?”

“Both of them!” Draco smiled back. “I was just so excited by our win, it just happened.”

“Felt all right to me.”

Draco squeezed him tight in a sideways hug. “Me too, but it’s a rather public display and I’m not - it’s new for me.”

Harry shook his head with a smile. “I never would have guessed, when we were younger, that you’d be shy about that kind of thing. Little-you would have wanted everyone to know we’re snogging!”

“Little-me didn’t know what was good for him,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. “Father says such outward displays are unseemly.” At Harry’s snort, Draco continued, “He says a couple that is in harmony doesn’t need to prove anything by claiming each other like that in public.”

“Is that what you think Seamus and Lavender are doing?”

“Well, and some people are exhibitionists. Can’t do much of anything about that.” He paused in thought for a moment, then took Harry’s hand. “I used to like being the centre of attention… But then I spent a summer trying to avoid the Death Eaters all over my house and suddenly subtlety was far more enticing.”

“You’re dating the wrong guy if you’re trying to avoid attention.”

Draco kissed the back of Harry’s hand. “I think we’re managing well, don’t you think? And anyway, you’re worth those minor hassles.”

“Dating you is my favourite.”

“Good. Because I’m not letting you go.”

\--------

Harry’s resolve to give Draco a little physical distance in public dissolved twenty-four hours later when he came into the common room to find Draco in his grey and green flannel plaid pyjamas, studying at one of the tables with Mandy, Hermione, and Theo.

“Why are you in your pyjamas?” Harry asked as he sat down, hoping the sudden rush of his heartbeat wasn’t visible on his face.

Draco looked down, “Oh, Theo and I were cleaning our potions boxes this afternoon. Taking inventory for next week, and I spilled a rosehip tincture on my robes. It’s late enough I decided to just go ahead with pyjamas.”

Harry huffed a little laugh, sure that a blush was taking over completely. “Yeah, okay. I guess that’s reasonable.”

“Is something wrong?”

“No, it’s just. You’re in pyjamas. It’s cute.” Yes, definitely red all over. Even his ears felt warm.

Mandy giggled at that, while Draco rolled his eyes. “You’re ridiculous,” he said. “We’re going over some Arithmancy notes.”

“That’s fine. I’ll just hover uselessly.” Harry took out his own parchment and a book for Charms, but had a hard time focusing on anything other than his sexy boyfriend in warm, cuddly pyjamas. Even worse, Harry thought it likely Draco had no pants on underneath, and the thought of Draco’s cock hidden beneath a single layer of thin flannel had Harry’s blood rushing south.

After a billion years, Draco stretched and said he’d done all he could for the evening. He packed his books away and with a completely straight face turned to Harry and said, “I’m taking these things back to the classroom. Want to walk with me?”

Harry slammed his book closed, and in his haste, overcorrected and dropped his book on the floor instead of in his bag. “Yes. Absolutely.” Hermione snorted as she packed up her own things with more care. 

Draco joined her in laughing at Harry. “What is with you?” he asked.

But Harry wasn’t about to explain his ridiculous infatuation with Draco’s pyjamas where anyone could hear them. He stood with his bag, struggling with the zipper so he could hold the bag at waist-height and attempt to hide his growing interest in getting Draco alone.

In the corridor, he took Draco’s hand to pull him along. As soon as they rounded the corner and no one from the common room could see, he pushed Draco to the wall. “I fucking _love_ these pyjamas.”

“You absolute loon. They’re pyjamas.”

“I know,” Harry growled. “All I can think about is…” His hands wormed their way under the waistband, and _fuck, yes_! “You’re not wearing any pants, Draco! Let’s go.”

Harry dragged a laughing Draco into the classroom, empty at this late hour, and pressed Draco’s front to the wall. Harry dragged his hands down Draco’s chest and belly, nibbling on what he could reach of his neck and nuzzling into his hair. Draco’s cock was still soft through the fabric, but began to harden under Harry’s hand.

“Yes,” Harry moaned into the soft fabric of Draco’s henley. “Take this - let me take this off.” He tugged on Draco’s shirt, and met with resistance.

“Can’t I leave it on?”

The odd question broke through the fog of desire spreading through Harry and he stepped back. “Are you all right?” He’d seen Draco shirtless before, and was thrown for a loop by the request.

“Yeah,” Draco said, turning and kissing Harry gently. “I just - there’s a scar on my back -”

“I know. I won’t touch it, I promise.” It had been obvious from the beginning that Draco didn’t like it. And Harry had managed to avoid it well enough. “I just want to feel your skin on mine. But not if you don’t want to.” He palmed Draco’s cock again and kissed his jaw. “This is good too.”

“Harry,” Draco laughed, and Harry could still hear a nervous edge to his voice. “If I’d known flannel pyjamas would do it for you, I’d have paraded around in them all the time.”

“You just look so cosy and cuddly and now you’re mine. And I want all of you.”

Harry’s moment had come, that moment when desire overrode nervousness entirely. He tugged the pyjama bottoms down so that Draco’s hip bones peeked over the top then ran his thumbs over them, and up his hips. And then slowly, he slid to his knees.

“Harry,” Draco breathed out. “You can’t - we’re - we’re in the fucking _classroom_!”

Nuzzling Draco’s belly, and then the cock straining against the thin flannel, Harry mumbled, “Do I look like I care right now?”

“At least -” Draco pulled his wand from the pocket and aimed a locking spell at the door. “Are you sure?”

Instead of answering, Harry pulled the pyjamas down a little more, freeing Draco’s cock. Yeah, okay, maybe he was still a little nervous, but he’d heard even a bad blow job was still a blow job, so… 

His first licks were tentative, but he soon gained confidence. His eyes met Draco’s, shining bright silver and wide as dinner plates. Draco’s mouth hung open and he gripped at the hem of his shirt like a lifeline. A small whine escaped him when Harry sucked lightly on the head.

Draco looked fucking gorgeous, but Harry had to close his eyes as he focused on his task. His hands circled Draco’s thighs, his fingers digging into the soft fabric still covering them. He moaned around Draco’s cock, making Draco whimper again. It filled Harry with pride, the ability to draw those sounds from his boyfriend. In his pants, his cock throbbed, begging for attention. But Draco’s breathing had gone ragged, above Harry, and then tentatively his hand combed through Harry’s hair. 

Their eyes met again, but the angle made it hard for Harry to keep his eyes open. And with his eyes closed, he could lose himself in the sensation of fingers carding his hair, of Draco’s thighs trembling beneath his hands, of the soft sighs and moans Draco made. 

“Harry, fuck, I’m almost - Merlin, _fuck_ , that feels so…”

It seemed a shame it was nearly over, when Harry felt he’d finally hit his stride. He bobbed his head slowly, dragging out each draw, until finally Draco’s hands tightened in his hair. Loudly he groaned, “Oh fuck!” and then Draco’s hot, bitter release flooded Harry’s mouth. 

What seemed like so little on his stomach now felt like a whole river. It startled him and overflowed his lips, despite swallowing what he could. He grimaced at the bitter taste, and wanted water to wash it all away. 

Draco slid down the wall and kissed him, ignoring entirely the mess on Harry’s lips and chin. “Harry, fuck… you are incredible!”

Harry worked his jeans open with shaky hands. “Kiss me again,” he groaned as he wrapped a hand around his cock. Draco’s kiss was much too tender and gentle to suit the tide rising in Harry. “Harder,” he gasped.

Draco’s fingers covered his, and Harry moved his hand so Draco could take over. “Don’t you want me to -”

“Harder, now. Now! _Yes, fuck_!” It was too late for Draco to offer to reciprocate. Harry dropped his head into the crook of Draco’s neck and groaned as he succumbed to the hot, delicious wave. “Yes, Draco…” he sighed, his body finally releasing the tension it carried.

They stayed together on the floor for long moments, letting their breathing settle. Finally Draco said, “I’m wearing these pyjamas all the time.”

Harry snorted a laugh and pulled back in a daze. “I’m a mess.”

“It is - sexy as fuck.” Draco’s thumb swiped across Harry’s lips, wiping them somewhat clean. A few light spells and they were both clean enough to fix their clothes. Draco kissed Harry lightly and pressed their foreheads together. “I’m not ready to go back out there.”

“Me neither,” Harry agreed easily. He flicked his wand at their usual loveseat, moving it to the fake window. “Let’s stay here for a while.”

Harry sat first and pulled Draco into the cradle of his legs, with Draco’s back to Harry’s front. But Draco wriggled and turned them until they were laid down, spooning as they usually did with Draco wrapped around Harry. They faced the fake window and looked at the approximation of the outside starry sky.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said. “About your shirt, earlier.”

“Oh... no, there’s nothing to be sorry for. I was being a ninny.”

“I know you’re sensitive about it and I shouldn’t have.”

Draco kissed Harry’s head and squeezed him tight. “It’s not - it just calls up a bad memory.”

Harry stayed quiet, not sure if a comment would make Draco feel better or worse. He didn’t want to bring up bad memories, but he could listen if Draco wanted to talk about it. The silence stretched between them, but gently and without pressure to fill it. Harry drifted happily between awake and asleep, and wondered if Draco had gone to sleep behind him.

But then softly Draco said, “It’s from when I was in Azkaban.”

Harry’s eyes flew open and he started to sit up. But Draco’s arms closed in tight, hugging Harry to him like a teddy bear. Harry stayed silent, waiting for Draco to be ready for more. 

“My father -” his breath hitched and he inhaled deeply. With a steadier voice he said, “My father gained us some leniency during the trials. He dished up every bit of knowledge he had on the escaped Death Eaters and offered it in exchange for keeping me and my mother out of Azkaban.”

“Wow, that’s… actually a decent move.”

“Didn’t know he had it in him?” Draco asked. He huffed a sad laugh against Harry’s hair. “He loves my mother. Loves me too, but doesn’t always know how to show it. He’d been to the prison once before, and he didn’t want that for either of us. I’m not sure I could have handled it long term.”

Draco shivered and rubbed his face against Harry. Harry wanted to turn around and hold him, but wondered if this might be easier for Draco - not having to look Harry in the eye. He linked their fingers together, hoping the small support would comfort Draco.

“I spent two nights there. As part of my probation, as a warning. It was horrible. They were trying to get rid of the Dementors at the same time, but they didn’t have enough Aurors to guard the prison, fight the Dementors, _and_ chase down the last Marked Death Eaters. So it was… loud, lots of fighting. And every now and again, this cold feeling of utter despair.” He hitched another broken breath and buried his head in Harry’s hair.

“Did someone hurt you?” Harry asked.

“No,” Draco’s sad laugh sounded again, resonating through Harry and breaking his heart. “I did it to myself. That first night. I was - I just wanted to get away. I backed up against the wall and - I cut myself on the rocks but couldn’t stop - I was just screaming my throat raw and pressing back and back and - I didn’t even know I’d injured myself until I left. The Healer that fixed me said she couldn’t help the scarring and… Now I have this permanent reminder of - all that.”

Harry hated himself for leaving England so quickly last summer. Could he have prevented it entirely? “I’m so sorry, Draco. I didn’t know. I feel like I should have known.”

“Hardly anyone does, really. It’s hard to talk about, both because it was painful, but also because I don’t want anyone thinking it’s - a bid for attention. We’ve all got horrible things we remember. I’m not special because some of mine involve prison. I mean, you _died_ , right? Can you compare one to another? You can’t, really. We all have trauma and severity is subjective.”

“Severity is subjective. I like that. I mean, I don’t _like_ it - that we’ve had enough shit happen to warrant such understanding but… It’s certainly true that we can’t really measure one bad thing against another.” Harry fell silent, thinking briefly of Ginny and the sad memories she carried. 

Perhaps that was her reason for pushing Blaise away so hard. In a short span of time, she lost Blaise and she lost Fred. But how could she compare a messy break-up to the death of her brother? How much easier was it to let Blaise be an angry mistake, so she wouldn’t have to rank her sorrows.

But she was allowed to be sad about both of them, to think of them both as tragedies of war. Perhaps if she let herself be sad about _all_ her losses, she could process them better.

That was a thought for another day. For now, he squeezed Draco’s arm and then kissed his palm. “Thank you for telling me,” he said softly. He couldn’t help but notice the trembling picking up again. He wondered how hard Draco was working at the moment to keep himself together. “It’s all right,” Harry whispered. “It’s all right if you - you can let go.”

“I’m so sorry,” Draco said, his voice cracking in a way that sliced through Harry. “I don’t want to think about it anymore.”

Harry turned in Draco’s arms, and wiped at his cheeks. He scattered light kisses across his face, hoping they would soothe Draco. “I know, it’s all right.” 

Harry hated feeling helpless, and nothing made him feel more useless than tears. There was no enemy to vanquish, no front to fight on. He could only mumble soothing, meaningless words of comfort and wait. He wiped Draco’s face clean with his t-shirt again and again, until the tears finally subsided.

“I’m so sorry,” Draco said again. “We - we’ve hurt each other in so many ways. How do we go on?”

“We’re already going on, Draco. Not just you and me - the other boys too. We’re learning to live together, to forgive and move on. Aren’t we?”

“I think they still hate me.”

“They’re learning. It’ll take time, but we’ll get there.”

After several moments of silence, Draco asked in a small, wet voice, “Can we stay here tonight?”

“Of course.” 

Harry summoned blank parchment and transfigured it into a light blanket to cover them. Draco adjusted the loveseat to be a little wider, and the arm to serve as a pillow. Harry looked out at the dark night and the glint of stars, with Draco’s warm body wrapped around him.

Throughout the uncomfortable night, Draco slept in fits and starts, and therefore Harry did too. Each time, Harry whispered soft words and ran his fingers through Draco’s hair to calm him until he could rest for another short while. The morning came much too soon, if Harry’s scratchy eyes had anything to say about it. It didn’t take much light coming through the window to wake them both permanently. 

Harry stretched and tried to work the painful kinks out of his neck and back. “I feel a hundred years old,” he said as his back popped. He kissed Draco’s cheek. “But I liked spending the night with you again.”

Draco wrapped his arms around Harry and nuzzled into his hair. “Me too… Even if the circumstances were shitty. Azkaban can kiss my arse.”

“I’ll get that printed on a t-shirt for you,” Harry said as he sat up.

Draco laughed and pulled him back down for a chaste kiss on the lips. “Thank you,” he said softly.

“Any time.”

In moments, they had the room set to rights and crept back to their corridor. Harry had his hand on the door to his room when Draco made a tiny distressed sound and pulled Harry into another hug. 

“Draco,” Harry whispered. “Are you all right?” He felt Draco nod against him, but his arms stayed clamped painfully tight around Harry’s waist.

“It takes a while. To box it all up again. The walls are glass.”

“Okay, it’s okay.” Harry didn’t exactly know what Draco meant, but could at least rock him gently until his arms eased.

“Harry,” Draco breathed into his hair. “Are you really mine?”

“You know I am. All yours.” Barely had the words left his lips before Draco was kissing him with a desperation that alarmed Harry more than it aroused him. But then the kiss softened and Harry felt his Draco returning to him.

A door banged open down the hall and Harry heard Seamus’s voice. “Well, well, well, sharing a lovely, little good-bye snog this morning?”

“Gryffindors falling out of everywhere like a plague,” Draco huffed, and Harry wanted to laugh.

He wanted to but the corridor filled with a yell, with a flash of light, with Draco’s horrified shriek, cut off in an instant as his body jerked from Harry’s and fell to the floor.

“Draco!” Harry yelled. What the fuck just happened? He knelt by Draco’s still, quiet body and shook him hard. “Draco! What - help me!” he yelled to anyone that could hear him.

“It was just a stunner,” Seamus said from nearby, his barely concealed rage spurring Harry to his feet. 

“What the fuck is the matter with you?!” Harry shoved hard at Seamus, then again to slam him against the stone wall. “What did you do to him?!”

“It’s just a stunner! He’ll be fine! Unfortunately.” Seamus pushed Harry away, heedless of the rage seething inside. “ _Rennervate_ ,” he said, pointing his wand at Draco’s prone form.

Harry turned to Draco, to see him open his eyes. But nothing happened and Harry’s rage churned and burned into something infinitely more dangerous. Magic crackled under his skin as fear took hold.

“ _Rennervate_ ,” Seamus said again, louder this time.

“Fuck off!” Harry growled with another shove. He didn’t even need his wand to levitate Draco’s limp body. Magic worked almost of its own accord to carry Draco to the end of the corridor. Seamus called after him, but Harry’s wild magic silenced him easily enough. As they passed the barrier at the end, Harry heard someone else leave their room, but he didn’t care enough to see who.

He pushed Draco to the Infirmary and woke Madam Pomfrey with a shout. As he settled Draco into the first bed he came to, Madam Pomfrey joined him, still in her dressing gown.

“What’s happened here?”

“Seamus - he - he stunned Draco but he won’t wake up.” Harry’s heart clenched tight. “He won’t wake up, but he’s fine, right?”

“It’s all right, Mr Potter. We’ll figure it out.” Gently she eased Harry into the chair next to the bed, but her hand jerked away from the buzz of magic at the contact, and Harry popped right back to his feet again. “Perhaps a Calming Draught for you?”

“No! Fix Draco! Fix him, please!”

She swirled her wand over Draco, bringing up a tangle of colored lights. “Oh, it’s all right,” she said. She pointed at a large knot of silver and red threads, the size of a quaffle. “It’s a broken shield charm, tangled with the stupefy.”

“It’s - you can fix it?”

Slowly she moved her wand around the knot, easing the red thread out until it broke free of the silver knot completely and dissolved. “Good,” she sighed. “We’ll just need to wait for Mr Malfoy to work through the shield on his own. A few hours rest and he’ll be fine.”

“He’s all right?” The magic inside him surged and then began to subside. “He’s just sleeping?”

“It’s just a regular sleep now, all right?” Madam Pomfrey almost patted him on the back, but pulled her hand back at the last moment. “If you’d like, you can stay here with him. He’ll wake soon and be back to his regular self.”

“Yeah, okay.” Harry collapsed into the chair, his eyes glued to Draco. Asleep, he was just asleep. Everything was fine now. “Okay. Thank you,” he said almost as an afterthought.

But she took no offense at his lack of focus. “He’ll be fine, Mr Potter. No need to worry. Now I’m going to get an early start to my day.” 

Thirty minutes later, Hermione’s otter patronus swam up to him and said, “Are you both all right? We’re stuck in the corridor.”

Harry sent his stag off running. _We’re fine. Stuck how?_

The otter came back, rubbing its tiny paws together in worry. “The barrier won’t let us through. We could use your help.”

Harry stared at Draco for a long moment, before conjuring a new stag. _Get Seamus to stun it for you._

Silence met this statement, and the last of Harry’s rage died away. They were alone, at least for the time being. Just like Harry liked it.

Half an hour later, Madam Pomfrey came to check on them again. She raised the image of silver threads, and the knot seemed smaller than before. She gave Harry a tentative pat on the back and told him he should also get some rest.

But he couldn’t sleep. Although his tired, aching body wanted to curl up in a real bed, Harry didn’t think he could shut his brain off. Chaotic thoughts bounced through his mind, of all the shit he’d gone through, just to lose Draco - _nearly_ lose him - after a scant three weeks together. When would his life stop turning to shit? Couldn’t he have just one good thing?

“Would you like some breakfast, Mr Potter?” Madam Pomfrey asked some time later. “I could call a tray up for you.”

“Thank you, but I couldn’t eat right now.”

She checked the knot again, now the size of a snitch. “We’re nearly there. Perhaps a late breakfast for the two of you?” 

Harry shrugged and she nodded at him. It would be soon, then, if she wasn’t pushing him to eat alone. He could wait and eat with Draco. A commotion at the door had them both turning to see a tumble of eighth year students pushing each other into the Infirmary.

“Harry!” Hermione called, with Ron right behind her.

Harry caught a glimpse of Neville, Seamus, Blaise, and Daphne before Madam Pomfrey had the bed blocked with her screens.

“I’m sorry,” she said curtly, “but Mr Malfoy is not up for visitors at the moment.”

“We came to see Harry. See if he needed our help,” he heard Hermione say.

Harry gave Draco’s hand a squeeze and then went around the screens to face his friends. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the gathered group. “We’re fine. We don’t need you here.”

“Harry,” Hermione sighed, wringing her hands. “Seamus explained about this morning -”

“Yeah and I’m sure it was a lovely tale he spun. I don’t care. Draco’s sleeping and he doesn’t need all of you disturbing him.”

Neville shoved Seamus forward and said, “He wants to apologise.”

“No he doesn’t,” Harry said, not disguising the bitterness he felt. “And it’s not me he should be apologising too anyway.”

“I’m sorry,” Seamus said, staring at the floor. Harry scoffed and Seamus’s head shot up with a glare.

Madam Pomfrey stepped between them, facing the other eighth years. “If you please, Mr Malfoy is asleep and not able to entertain visitors. If you could all return to your corridor - thank you.” She began herding them out the door. Ollie and Daphne went first, followed by Ernie and Tracey. Theo hesitated but nodded at Harry and left as well. Hermione also hesitated, but then took Lavender’s hand and the two of them left. 

Ron, Neville, and Seamus huddled together, pleading with Madam Pomfrey. “Just for a minute,” Neville said. “Before these things burrow deeper. Please, Poppy,” he said softly. And Harry hated the unfairness of it - the bond grown between the leader of the rebellion, and their primary healer.

“Perhaps just a minute. Try to keep your voices down at least,” she said at last. She gave Harry an apologetic look and turned to her office.

“Is he really okay?” Neville asked.

“Yeah,” Harry bit out. “Sleeping it off. We’ll see how he is when he wakes.”

“Seamus is sorry,” Neville said, bumping Seamus with his shoulder. “Tell him.”

Harry scowled. “I already know he’s not.”

“You said you wouldn’t be sharing a room with him anymore!” Seamus burst out. Ron quickly enclosed them in a soundless bubble, before Madam Pomfrey kicked them out. Seamus continued angrily, “I know he spent the night with you! It’s not fair!”

“Yeah well, he had a bit of a breakdown, all right? Talking about being in _Azkaban_ brought back a lot of shit he couldn’t deal with on his own. I wasn’t about to chuck him out into the night!”

“Aww, so sorry the poor baby had nightmares! What about the rest of us? You think Lav doesn’t wake up screaming about a _fucking werewolf eating her face off_? But I can’t really be there to comfort _her_ now can I?”

“Yeah? And she’s got Lisa and Susan, doesn’t she? Someone there for her, even if it’s not you? Who does Draco have? You? Fuck off with that shit! And anyway we weren’t in my room at all.”

The three boys looked surprised at each other and Harry sneered. “That’s right. We spent the night in the classroom, staring out the window between nightmares. What, sorry you didn’t think of it yourselves?”

“Harry,” Neville said softly, his voice placating, but his plea only spurred Harry to further anger.

“I don’t want to hear it. Whatever empty words you all have isn’t going to fix this.” He turned his glare on Seamus. “You should have asked before hexing him!”

“He called me a plague! All of us!”

“He didn’t _mean_ it, fuckwit! He was coming out of a panic attack! He says -” Harry swallowed the lump forming in his throat. “He says a lot of shit when he’s - when his emotions run high.”

“No, he’s just a git. Thinking that shit in the first place! He’s been like that since he was eleven!”

“Yeah? So? Maybe that’s just part of growing up! Maybe back then he was - trying out those big, forbidden words, except he’s got a real dick for a dad so he chose ‘mudblood’ instead of ‘fuck.’ Maybe he -” Harry swallowed painfully as he thought of those years. “Maybe he had feelings he didn’t understand for a pretty dark-haired boy, and would do anything for his attention. Even insult that boy’s friends and dead parents.”

Seamus opened his mouth to say something else, but Neville laid a hand on his arm and said, “But he grew up, Harry. We all grew up last year and he still made the same shitty choices, insulting us, hexing us, and toeing their line.”

“Maybe he was afraid,” Harry said softly, remembering those images he carried of Draco surrounded by Death Eaters in his own home. “Maybe he didn’t like what he’d been given in life but didn’t know how to change it. Maybe he was told to kill a man -” Harry’s breath hitched at that, thinking of another man that took magic seven steps too far. “To plot and plan, or scurry and panic with no plan at all… to spend a - a year of his life… A _year_ of his life, and for what?” 

He hunched into himself, trying to gain control of the awful, sudden tide of magic and pain inside him. “Can’t he just be happy? After all that shit he suffered, doesn’t he just get to be happy now?” The air around him shifted and he heard Neville sigh. “Don’t. Fuck, _please_ don’t touch me right now.” 

From the corner of his eye Harry saw Ron take hold of Neville’s arm. “We’ll go, Harry,” Ron said. “We’ll come back later?”

“Don’t bother. Pomfrey says he’ll wake up soon. Just go. I’ll pass on your apology. Just leave us alone.”

Madam Pomfrey noticed the boys leaving and offered Harry a small vial of blue liquid. “A Calming Draught for you, Mr Potter.”

“I’m fine -”

“Take it, before the screens catch fire.”

Behind him, the screens around Draco’s bed were vibrating. Harry drank the potion, immediately feeling the warmth spread through him and his magic settled.

Madam Pomfrey smiled, “There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Harry looked down at the bottle, rolling it in his hands. “It’s hard, being back here. Hard for me, hard for them. Do you think it was worth it?”

She gave him a sad look, probably remembering the students that trailed through her infirmary last year. “Oh Mr Potter, I hate that you children have had such tumultuous years here. But yes, I do think it’s all worth it. If not for the forced proximity, would you have ever mended your differences?”

“I’m not sure Seamus wants to mend differences with Draco.”

“No, perhaps not. But at least you both get to speak your piece and agree to disagree.” She took the bottle from him with a kind smile and left him alone with Draco.

Harry took Draco’s hand, then laid his head down on the bed. He kissed Draco’s fingers and gave them a squeeze, hoping he would wake up soon. 

Harry needed a hug.


	13. Chapter 13

As soon as Headmistress McGonagall left Draco’s bedside, Harry hurried over. “Here, take my arm and I’ll help you.” Harry winged his elbow for Draco to take hold of.

But Draco knocked it aside as he led the way out of the infirmary. “I told you already, I’m fine. I’m tired, but I’m fine. I just hope no one sees me in my fucking pyjamas. You couldn’t have fetched a robe for me while I was sleeping?”

“I didn’t want to leave you! And anyway, everyone’s at breakfast so no one will see.”

But of course, Harry had to be wrong. As they passed his room, Blaise and Theo emerged and wanted to hear from Draco that he was all right. In Draco’s room, they found Ron, Seamus, and Neville talking quietly. The three of them leaped to their feet when Harry and the Slytherins came in. 

“Excellent!” Harry said with an eye roll. “It looks like a proper reunion.”

Seamus crossed his arms over his chest with a dark scowl at the ground. “Lavender said I should apologise and mean it this time.” He sighed at the ceiling. “So… I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions and hexing you.”

“It’s all right,” Draco said, “I know it -”

“It’s not all right,” Harry interrupted. “What if you’d been hurt? He was way out of line!” And there was that condescending, yet soft look to Draco’s face, that had Harry instantly on guard. “Wait, don’t tell me,” he bit out. “I wasn’t here last year, and you can forgive him because you _were_ and you know what he suffered? You suffered too, and doesn’t that count for something?”

Draco pressed his lips together, then gave Harry a small smile. He took Harry’s hand, then turned to their friends. “Thank you, Finnigan, for your apology. You can let Lavender know I appreciate her concern. Now if you all don’t mind, I’d like to get showered and dressed and move on from this adventurous morning.”

Seamus stomped out the door immediately, followed by Neville. Ron said he’d be up for flying later, if Harry needed the company. Theo and Blaise whispered something Harry couldn’t hear to Draco, and said they’d left a breakfast tray for them both on Blaise’s bed.

Draco closed the door behind everyone and sighed, leaning his head against the wood for a few seconds. Harry bristled, hearing the admonishments coming even before Draco started speaking.

“You think Seamus was right to hex you, don’t you?”

“I’ve done bad things, Harry. I can hardly fault him for being upset about it.” Draco sat down on his bed and patted the space next to him, but Harry didn’t want to sit down.

“It’s been nearly a year,” Harry almost yelled. “When does he move past it?”

“Whenever he’s ready and not a moment sooner. He’s making good progress, right? He went on that date with us a few weeks ago. But he’s going to have setbacks too and - you just need to be more patient, more understanding.”

“It hurts,” Harry said, his flagging rage making his shoulder droop. He joined Draco on the bed and twisted Draco’s signet ring back and forth. “It hurts because I want them to like you like I like you.”

Draco smiled and gave Harry a kiss on his cheek, then took hold of Harry’s hand. “You are too forgiving for someone that’s been hurt so many times.” He sighed, “And yet, hard as nails when you want to be. Harry, we can’t just pretend the war never happened. Finnigan is still dealing with the fall-out and nightmares.”

“He hasn’t mentioned nightmares,” Harry said, trying to remember if Seamus had said anything.

“Does he seem the type to admit such things?” Draco shook his head. “But I’m awake in the middle of the night too and I hear him. He does pull ups on the cross bar of his four-poster. Or push-ups and sit-ups. Sometimes he’ll cast a _silencio_ and run through basic hexes and shields, as if he can go back to that night and - maybe save Lavender? I don’t know but he’s… I think maybe he needs her more than he lets on.”

This stunned Harry into a shocked silence that lasted just long enough for Draco to get up and gather his things for a shower. “Like I told McGonagall, that hex was an accident, and even if Finnigan hates me, he doesn’t really want to hurt me. He’s just angry and doesn’t always know what to do with it. I think we know someone like that, yes?”

Harry crossed his arms and grumped, “They call it _accidental_ magic because it’s an accident! If I knew it was going to happen, they’d call it on purpose, like that hex!”

“I’m just saying, it’s possible to _accidentally_ put more power than you intended into a spell you did on purpose. I told McGonagall I wanted to let it go and I want you to do the same. Then we can all move on faster. Now, I’m going to shower…” At Harry’s sudden smile, Draco added, “ _Alone_. We’ll meet in your room and share breakfast before Defence.”

An hour later, they went to the classroom, with most of their friends buzzing around laughing and practicing their spells for class. Draco gave Harry an encouraging smile and squeezed his fingers for luck, then Harry sat next to Seamus and Neville.

“Hey, so, Draco said I was being an arse earlier. And so… yeah, I’m sorry about that.” Harry fiddled with his bracelet, hoping his lame apology would suffice.

Seamus shrugged, “Well, even if I’m not really sorry for hexing him, I’m sorry it knocked him out. I just wanted to scare him and - I know I overreacted and…”

Harry accepted Seamus’s equally lame apology with a grin. “Draco says it’s fine, so it’s fine. And… he had an idea. About the chaperoning wards.”

“Yeah?” Seamus asked, darting a glance at Draco. “What kind of idea?”

“The kind that needs a little research.” Harry inclined his head in Hermione’s direction, “We’ll set Hermione on it and… yeah, we might be able to fix it.”

Neville shook his head, “McGonagall is going to shred us for this, isn’t she?”

Seamus snorted, “You know she loves it when we buck the system. She’s proud of all her little goslings blossoming into independent, havoc-wreaking swans. Otherwise why would she stay on here?”

“How does one argue with such logic?” Harry laughed and went to sit with Draco for class.

\--------

After lunch, Harry, Ron, and Seamus left to join the Gryffindor chasers and keeper in a short practice. Draco and Theo walked with them, on their way to Hagrid’s for Care of Magical Creatures.

Draco squeezed Harry’s hand and said, “Have fun flying!” 

He started walking away with Theo and just to embarrass him, Harry let him get a little too far away before yelling, “I already miss you! Skive off class and come with us!”

Draco didn’t turn back but raised his hand in a two-fingered salute at Harry, making Harry grin and Seamus roll his eyes. Ron drew their attention away before Seamus said something stupid. “Looks like the team beat us to the pitch.”

Ahead of them, they could see four figures flying through basic warm-up drills. “Let’s fly,” Harry said. “It’s faster than walking.”

While the team flew through their warm-up drills, the boys distracted themselves by pelting the bludgers at each other. It felt good to do something ridiculous together, to help let go of the lingering resentment Harry carried from the morning. Seamus had been a prick about Harry’s coming out and dating Draco. But given the fact he could have done more damage, with both words and spells, perhaps meant that he was at least trying in the way he knew how. Harry sympathised with Seamus’s misplaced anger and could, as Draco wished, forgive and move on.

A wild bludger ended their warm-ups, and broke the group up so that Ron ran drills with Paulina around the goal post, and Seamus continued sending bludgers at the two chasers while they tossed the quaffle between them.

Ginny joined Harry, circling a little higher than everyone else to get a better view. “You’re moving a little slow today,” she said.

“I’m dead tired,” Harry said. He didn’t want to get into everything with Ginny so he summed up by saying, “It’s been an exhausting twenty-four hours. But I didn’t want to nap and then be awake all night so… I’m trying to power through.”

“For tomorrow’s practice we’ll have the whole team, and the three reserves. If you want to get a group together, we can do a mini-game. It’s good practice and good for morale.”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll see who’s available. You have the evening slot?”

Ginny nodded, “After dinner.”

“Great, I”ll be back from Madam Hooch’s by then.”

“Brilliant,” she said, before flying back down to help guide the rest of practice.

That evening, Harry sat at the big tables in the common room trying to make sense of his scattered and random notes for Defence. But his head swam and the floor seemed to tilt underneath him.

“I’m done with this shit,” he said, shoving everything into a rough pile.

Draco helped him neaten the stack. “You’re going to bed early? Like, _early_ ,” he asked with a wink.

“Well, _some_ of us didn’t get to nap all morning long and now I’m tired. For real tired.” Harry gave Draco’s hand a squeeze. “The floor is pitching under me and I just really need to go to bed.”

“Okay,” Draco stood and packed the last of Harry’s things away. “Need any help?”

“If you want to walk me there,” Harry said quietly, “you can kiss me goodnight.”

In a perfect world, Harry could wrap his tired body around his warm boyfriend and drift off to sleep. But alas, they were trying to play nice with the others. Hermione promised to research the spells on their rooms and hopefully they wouldn’t be an issue for much longer.

Sleeping alone sucked.

\--------

Tuesdays stretched on as the longest day of Harry’s week. Draco brewed all morning long with Theo, right through their Potions class, then a brief lunch before Draco had Arithmancy. But then Harry went to Hogsmeade to meet with Madam Hooch, and didn’t get back until nearly dinner time.

And on this Tuesday, he’d agreed to meet Ginny and the Gryffindor team for a practice Quidditch game. They needed four flyers to make a full team, with the reserve team members joining in. Ron and Seamus dumped their studies in a heartbeat to join in, but Dean had made plans with Luna, and Neville only flew in the most casual of circumstances.

They were one person short.

“It’ll be fine,” Seamus said. “So our team is down a beater or doesn’t have a seeker. It’ll be fine.”

“Come on, surely someone else can play, right?” Harry’s eyes scanned the common room. He eliminated any Hufflepuffs right off as the rival team of the moment. “I can ask Draco.”

“Seriously?” Seamus asked.

Harry couldn’t help but whine, “I haven’t seen him all day and it’ll be fun. There won’t be any snogging on the pitch, we’ll be too busy flying!”

“Ugh, fine.”

But Draco also had plans. He sat at the big tables with Theo, Terry, and Lisa amidst a sea of animal diagrams. “When you said you’d be flying with the House team, I didn’t think you meant I could come along. I made plans with Theo to work on our presentation for Care of Magical Creatures.”

“Can’t you put that off?” Harry asked, but already felt guilty, because no, he couldn’t when his schedule already overflowed. “Sorry, nevermind,” Harry said with a smile. He kissed the top of Draco’s head. “We can find someone else, and you and I can go flying some other time.”

“Sorry. But have fun!” Draco squeezed Harry’s fingers in good-bye as Blaise sidled over.

“I couldn’t help but overhear…”

“Lies,” Theo whispered, shaking his head with a little smile. Next to him, Lisa snorted and tried smothering a smile.

Blaise gave Harry a wide, innocent smile. “You need a fourth for a game?”

Harry spoke slowly, ready for a trap to spring shut around him, “Erm, yeah? We’re playing with the Gryffindor team, a practice game. But I don’t think -”

“Excellent!” Blaise said, rubbing his hands together vigorously. “I’d love to join in.”

“I don’t think that’s a great idea,” Harry tried again. 

But Blaise didn’t seem to listen. He clapped Harry on the back and pushed him out of the common room ahead of him. “Let me change my clothes and I’ll be ready. No more than five minutes.”

“Blaise! This is a terrible idea.” Harry said, following him into their room. “Ginny is going to completely lose her shit when she sees you.”

“No she won’t, she’s got her team with her. It’ll be fine.” Blaise tapped his chest with his wand and his robes sprang open.

Harry turned around so he didn’t have to look at Blaise stripping down to his pants without a care in the world. “It’s not going to be fine, and she’s going to hex my broom into toothpicks!”

“We just need to spend a little time together, and something organised and brief like this is perfect. We don’t have to talk to each other and it’ll be over in a max of two hours.” 

Harry heard the rustling of clothing and wanted desperately to stop Blaise from putting on his flying clothes. “Blaise -” he began, hoping the words to change his mind would miraculously appear.

“Harry, close quarters worked for you and Draco, it can work for me and Ginny too.”

“It’s not working for Seamus and Draco!”

“Seamus doesn’t want to fuck Draco.”

Harry dropped his head into his hands. “Fucking hell, this is going to be a disaster.” 

“No, it’s going to be brilliant.” Harry heard a loud clap. “All right, let’s go.”

Turning, Harry found Blaise in a skin-tight muggle t-shirt and his regular flying breeches. He had a charcoal grey jumper in one hand, and his broom in the other. 

“Please don’t do this to me,” Harry whined.

“It’s already done.”

Dragging his feet, Harry followed Blaise out. Ron gave him a questioning look, but shrugged and walked with Blaise down the corridor. Seamus sighed at the ceiling, then glared at Harry. “Bloody hell, who keeps putting you in charge of shit?”

“Ginny is going to kill me.”

“I’ll help her dig your grave.”

Harry laughed and elbowed Seamus, who elbowed him right back. Sure enough, when they got to the pitch, Ginny had her arms crossed, glaring at the four boys.

“This is not what I had in mind,” she said crisply to Harry.

“Everyone was busy,” he said with a reluctant shrug. “This was the best that I could do.”

She heaved a sigh and said, “We have one chaser, one beater, and a seeker playing reserve. You four arrange yourselves around them and get in the air.” She stomped off to join the first string players in their circle. 

Harry smiled at the reserve team members, who waved awkwardly at their group. After a brief discussion, Ron became their keeper and Seamus became the other beater, leaving Blaise and Harry as chasers.

Having four bigger and more experienced players on their team should have given them the advantage, but Ginny, Demelza and Simon were ruthless chasers that passed the quaffle with ease and flew with efficient precision. If not for Ron being the good keeper he was, they would have been trampled.

After an hour with no snitch in sight, Ginny called the game, with the first string team winning forty to ten. She told the team to take a few laps around the pitch and flew to the ground with Harry, Ron, Seamus, and Blaise.

“Thanks,” she said, “for flying with us. It helps everyone focus when the stakes are a little higher.”

“You’re welcome,” Harry said. “Sorry about… surprising you.” He looked over his shoulder at Blaise and Ron wiping their brooms down. “I tried to tell him no.”

“It’s fine,” she said, clenching her jaw. “Our paths are bound to cross occasionally.”

“Hope the rest of your practice goes well.”

She looked up at the team and nodded. “Yeah, I’d best get back to it. Goodnight, Harry.”

Harry waved and joined the boys on the walk back to the castle. Blaise smiled the whole way. With a wink at Harry he said, “I think that went well.”

“Certainly fewer Bat Bogey Hexes than I expected,” Seamus said. “What a shame.”

Ron pulled his wand halfway out of his pocket, “I could fix that for you, if you like?” Seamus laughed and they continued trading barbs as they walked up the path.

Harry and Blaise lagged behind. “That was quite a risk you took,” Harry said softly.

“Good,” Blaise said with a smile. “Faint heart never won a fair lady.”

\--------

Eager to find Draco as soon as possible, Harry ran through a quick shower. Luckily, Draco wasn’t hard to find. In fact, his presence at the common room tables punched Harry right in the gut.

“Draco,” Harry said, enunciating each syllable carefully as he sat down, “what the fuck are you wearing?”

With an innocent smile, Draco said, “Pyjamas.” He ran a hand down the front of his snug, black, long-sleeved henley and shrugged. “We’re not leaving the corridor anymore today, so I thought, why not?”

“You little shit!” Harry hissed under his breath, his blood already rushing with desire. “You hate wearing your pyjamas where everyone can see.” Harry used to hate how rarely it happened, but now he liked keeping that view all to himself.

“Yes, well, sometimes I do. If I have good reason...” Draco twisted in his seat and stretched out one leg. “And I was curious to see if you liked these black and gold ones as much as you like the silver and green ones?” He raised one eyebrow at Harry. “It’s the same brand,” he whispered with a wink.

“You’re going to regret this,” Harry whispered as Hermione sat down across from them.

“Harry, I found some of the spells we were looking for,” she said happily, pulling a scroll from her bag.

“Brilliant,” Harry said, trying to focus on Hermione and her diagrams and not think about Draco sitting next to him in cuddly, soft pyjamas with no fucking pants on underneath. “Let me take a look.”

It only got worse as the hour dragged on and Draco’s leg rubbed against his, or his foot curled around Harry’s ankle. Every so often he would look up from his own notes and smile or wink. Harry stayed half-hard and unable to focus at all. 

But finally, _finally_ Draco rested a hand on his thigh and said, “It’s late and I think I'm ready to turn in.”

“Oh, erm, yeah. Let me just put this all away.” Harry didn’t think his motions were too rushed, but given Hermione’s smirk, they were not as smooth as they could have been. 

Draco dropped his books off on his trunk, then followed Harry to his room. Harry closed them up in his bed and whipped his shirt off. “You’re going to regret teasing me,” he said, practically panting with the effort of getting his jeans off.

“Right, I don’t think that’s true so… get on with things.” Draco rubbed at his cock over the soft flannel until Harry shoved Draco’s hand away and replaced it with his own.

“I love your jammies.”

“Prove it,” Draco said, rocking his hips up with a wicked smile. 

Harry straddled Draco’s hips and kissed him slowly, moaning at the press of Draco’s erection against him through the thin fabric. And all the while, a plan unfurled in his mind.

A taste of his own medicine was what Draco needed. 

\--------

The joy of school robes was that one could wear literally anything at all underneath and no one would know. On the flip side of that coin, one could wear literally anything and no one would know even if one _wanted_ others to know.

Before leaving for breakfast, Harry passed Ron a folded piece of parchment. “Hey, I’m playing a prank on Draco. I’m going to ask for this back, in Charms. Can you keep it ‘til then?”

“Sure,” Ron said, flipping the little square a few times. “What’s it say?”

“Nothing, but he doesn’t know that. When I ask, just pass it back.”

Ron shrugged and pocketed the parchment. “I sure hope it’s funny.”

“Oh it will be,” Harry said, already imagining Draco’s reaction and smiling about it. He ate breakfast with the Slytherins and made the usual idle chit-chat, trying not to squirm with nerves.

Draco took his hand as they left the Great Hall on the way to their classroom for revising before the lesson began. Part way there, Harry pulled Draco to a stop. “I think there’s a rock in the tread of my boot.”

“Y-your boot?”

Harry lifted his robe and awkwardly balanced while resting one ankle on his opposite knee. “Nope, must have been my imagination.” He smiled at Draco, who didn’t notice because now his eyes were glued to Harry’s feet. Only the bottoms could be seen, but they both knew the leather with silver buckles continued up to Harry’s knees.

“I didn’t realise you were wearing those boots again,” Draco sighed lightly and then shook his head. Narrowing his eyes at Harry he said, “Is this in retaliation for the pyjamas?”

“Oh Draco,” Harry laughed, tugging his hand to get him moving up the stairs again. “That seems a little petty, wouldn’t you say?”

“I suppose,” Draco said. But he still cast a second suspicious glance at Harry. “Perhaps you’re a little too kind for that.”

“Oh absolutely. If I _really_ wanted to mess with your head, I might do something like… wear your underpants to class.”

Draco snorted, but then paused in the corridor. Harry could almost see the gears turning in his mind, putting clues together. Slowly he said, “Aren’t _all_ your pants my pants? The pants I bought for you?”

“More like…” Harry leaned in close and whispered in Draco’s ear, “You left a pair behind in my bed and the Elves brought them to _me_ from the laundry instead of _you_.”

Draco made a choked sound. “No,” he gasped. His eyes darted down Harry’s body and back up. “No you didn’t.”

Harry winked and sat in their usual loveseat. To really drive Draco mad, he leaned across the desk, sure that Draco would ogle his arse, and whispered to Ron, “Psst! Give me that parchment.” He hoped when he looked back, Draco’s mouth would be hanging open in that dopey way Harry loved.

Ron looked over his shoulder at Harry, then at Draco behind him, and rolled his eyes. He scribbled on the parchment and handed it back to Harry. He stuck his tongue out at both of them before turning back around.

“Aren’t you going to sit down?” Harry asked Draco, who was indeed staring with a slack-jawed expression. Harry looked down at the note Ron had written. _Include me in your weird little sex games again, and I will end you_. He snorted and put the parchment in his bag. Draco sat next to him, his movements a little jerky and uncoordinated. “What’s the matter, Draco? Having trouble concentrating?”

Draco’s eyes darted around the room, ending with a scowl for Harry. “This isn’t over, Potter.”

“Oh I don’t doubt that.” 

Even if he would be in trouble for this little stunt later, he enjoyed every moment of Draco’s discomfort. He noticed the little glances at his boots, and the way Draco squirmed more than usual. Every so often his eyes would glaze over and his breathing would speed up. Harry felt a little guilty when Draco fumbled a few of his Charms, but there was time enough to make up whatever spells needed more work.

As soon as they were let out, Draco dragged him three rooms down into an empty room. He warded the door and quickly opened Harry’s school robes. He stared at the denim for a moment before painfully yanking Harry’s jeans open to admire the low-rise pants he wore. Fuck, but Harry loved when Draco made that undignified squeak. He ran long, pale fingers over the trail of dark hair leading down Harry’s belly. 

Slowly, Draco hooked his fingers in the waistband and released Harry’s cock with a darting lick of his lips. Then with little finesse, he sucked Harry down and made a delicious moaning sound that vibrated through Harry’s whole body. No need for a pensieve for this memory! Harry would remember for the rest of his life the way Draco’s fingers dug into the leather covering his calves, how gloriously slick and hot his mouth felt, and the low, desperate moans he made.

After, Draco wrapped his arms around Harry and nibbled his lips with slow kisses. “I won’t tease you with my super sexy, flannel pyjamas anymore.”

“I’ll return your pants when they come back from the laundry.”

“ _Or_ ,” Draco said with a shy smile, “you could keep them. Just… maybe let me discover them while we’re alone instead of distracting me right before class.”

“It’s a deal.”

\--------

Their tentative plans to head to Edinburgh for their one month anniversary were abandoned in favour of their chaperoning charms project. Hermione spread her extensive notes all over the common room tables, dotted with notes and sketches from Mandy and Terry as well.

“It seems like this charm here,” Hermione pointed at the green ink of Mandy’s sketch, “should be the first to go. We think the others will pull apart without it.”

“You _think_?” Harry asked. “If you’re not sure -”

“We’re as sure as we can be. We need to see it. But it takes a lot of magic just to call up the castle wards. They’re designed to be hidden for safekeeping. Do you think you can manage it?”

Only one way to find out. Harry had not envisioned this scenario with such a large audience. But even the students without significant others were interested in this project. Hermione and Mandy herded everyone to the far ends of the corridor to give Harry some space. Draco gave his hand a squeeze and whispered, “Good luck,” before joining Blaise and Theo at the end of the corridor.

They had practiced this spell in class, to see layers of magic on everyday objects. And Harry had done it many times while working with Madam Hooch to fix broken brooms. But the complexity of the spells in the castle and on their rooms made the whole thing much heavier than he was used to. He felt the deep tug on his magic as it surged up to meet his demand.

He only managed it for a few minutes, but it was enough to confirm the theory Mandy and Hermione came up with. The lines of overlapping charms interlocked in a complicated pattern, held tighter with a dull green charm that pulled back from Harry.

“Definitely the green one,” Harry said when the lights faded. “I can feel it pulling away. I think the others will be more visible when it’s not in the way.”

Hermione nodded, staring at her notes. “We just need a little more magic so you can hold it steady.”

Harry heaved an exhausted sigh. “I can’t do it now. But we can try again tomorrow.”

Although their progress was slight, their friends still babbled with excitement and congratulations. Harry wondered if McGonagall had a monitor somewhere in there, to alert her to their meddling, but didn’t want to dampen the happy mood by asking Hermione. If they could succeed in releasing the chaperone charms, the last of the tension between Seamus and Draco could finally seep away.

On Saturday, Harry worked at the common room tables with Draco and Blaise on some drawings of plant life cycles for Herbology. Draco had a delicate hand that turned out elegant rough sketches suitable for framing, whereas Harry’s drawings could compete with a five-year-old for space on the fridge. When Ollie and Dean joined them, Harry was relieved to see Ollie had a skill level to match Harry’s own. Hopefully Professor Sprout had seen worse. 

And then Dean had to go and put everyone’s efforts to shame. He set his two glass parchment weights at one end of his scroll and slowly unfurled the three or four feet of parchment, showing them the meadow he had created, divided into four seasons. He set two more weights on the other end, and said, “I didn’t write my descriptions on the parchment because I’m going to ink in more color, and then send it to my mum for her kitchen. She likes to cover the walls in flower prints.”

“Dean, I swear you’re the fucking worst. It’ll be Trolls for all of us, for sure,” Harry grumbled, admiring the rows of flowers flowing across the parchment through the different seasons.

“She’s not comparing one to the other, idiot. I’m sure she’ll give you a big, gold star for your sunflowers.”

“They’re daisies!”

“Daisies aren’t yellow.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t really ask your opinion, now did I?” Harry stuck his tongue out at Dean.

“I like your parchment weights,” Blaise said loudly over their bickering. “Did you get them from Luna Lovegood?”

“Yeah, I did. I don’t know where she got the camellias from, but she painted the blue designs on them and a friend of her dad’s set them in glass.”

“I know, she gave me a set too.” Blaise reached into a small pocket of his bag and pulled out a single glass weight with a tapered white flower inside. “Mine are made from angel’s trumpets, but with a silver accent,” he said with a smile. “They’re pretty enough to sell, don’t you think?”

“Luna just likes giving them away.” Dean took the angel’s trumpet weight and turned it around and around in his hand. “She gave you these?”

“Yes, after I told her about an accident my mother had with them.”

“What happened to her?” Harry asked, hoping his face didn’t reflect his panicked horror.

“The sap is poisonous and she got it on her hands. Long story short, she started hallucinating and nearly jumped off our roof, thinking she could fly.” He took the weight back from Dean and put it in his bag. “Thankfully the paralysis set in and she just fell back on the roof.”

Draco shook his head. “I am more horrified with every story you tell about her. How did she ever make it to adulthood?”

“She’s had eight husbands and a vigilant son. We all work together to keep the diricawl on the perch.”

Ollie barked a nervous laugh, eyeing Blaise carefully to judge his seriousness. “You can’t call your mother a dumb, flightless bird!”

“Yes I can, because she’s very beautiful, and has a generous, perennially innocent heart. But she is also brainless and utterly useless for anything but decoration.” Blaise shrugged, “Anyway, Luna said I should stop remembering how she almost broke every bone in her body, and instead remember she found joy in something as simple as a flower.”

“A poisonous flower,” Draco muttered.

“Typical Luna,” Harry said over him, “finding the silver lining.”

“That’s exactly what she said. And why she painted them silver. I don’t know that I’ll ever see the silver lining like she wants, but it’s helped to take some of the terror out of that memory, so maybe she’s right.” Blaise shrugged.

“If you say so…” Harry clapped Dean on the back with a smile. “So, do you think you could help me with my daisies?”

\--------

That afternoon, they made a second attempt on the chaperoning spells. Harry shook his hands out and tried to focus on his magic while Hermione directed everyone.

“Harry’s going to call up the spells and when they’re steady enough, Mandy and I are going to pull out the green one holding them together. If it works, the rest should shake loose. Ernie and Lisa, you’ll work on these lines,” she pointed to her colourful diagram, “while Mandy and I take down these. Padma, Seamus, Ron, and Dean, you lot be ready in case we need shield charms. Are we ready?”

There were nods along the corridor and everyone looked to Harry to get them started. Everything hinged on whether or not he could keep the spells up and visible long enough for them to be dismantled through the wards that needed to stay. The thought of all that magic pulling against him was already making him tired. 

“What if I can’t do this?” Harry asked, his voice shaky with nerves. 

“We believe in you, Harry!” Parvati said with a big smile. “You can do it!”

Murmurs of assent only made Harry roll his eyes. “Unsteady spells are just waiting to backfire! We could all die! Just how badly do you all want to get laid?”

“Bad enough to risk this shit,” Seamus said. “Come on, you’ve got this. Easy as pie.”

Harry groaned at the ceiling. “Okay. Here we go.” He gripped his wand tightly and closed his eyes to focus. He thought of all the unsteady magic he’d had in the past few months, trying to focus on the well of magic, rather than the horrible emotions attached to each incident. It built up inside him, tingling along his skin and begging for an outlet. Harry murmured the incantation and magic flowed through his hands and his wand, illuminating the corridor with strands of Headmistress McGonagall’s magic combined with unfamiliar magic that shimmered with power.

As Hermione and Mandy worked on the green thread binding them all together, Harry felt the magic heaving against him, trying to pull away from his hold. This magic did not want to be seen or touched. His hands began to shake with the effort of holding everything in place. Just as he thought it might slip away from him, the green thread dissolved and the rest of the threads steadied and opened up.

Ernie and Lisa moved quickly to dismantle their set, while Hermione and Mandy did the same. One purple strand slipped away and crackled loudly, but Ron and Dean caught it before anyone was hurt. A high pitched whine filled Harry’s ears, and it took him a moment to realise it came from him. He couldn’t hold it all for much longer, but his jaw clenched too tightly to tell anyone else.

Then Draco was there, his arm sliding around Harry’s waist. He whispered softly, “They’re almost done... Nearly there... You’re doing so well… Almost, love… Almost…”

The words flowed through Harry, keeping him together, until Hermione’s sharp yell of, “Done!” cut through everything. Harry dropped the spells that needed to stay in place and slumped against Draco. 

Carefully, Draco lowered him to the floor, asking, “Are you okay?”

“I’m just gonna… sleep here now…” Harry said, his words slurring as his eyes closed. “Did it work?”

“We’ll know for sure at midnight,” Hermione said, “but I think we got everything. How are you feeling?”

Her words filtered through the fog of Harry’s sleepy brain and he could barely reply, “Sleepy,” before everything went dark.

\--------

Harry woke up in a warm cocoon that resembled his very own bed. Except his bed didn’t have a Draco Malfoy in it. Harry lit a tiny _lumos_ so he could see him better, and gently ran his fingers through baby fine blond hair. Quietly he tiptoed to the bathroom to relieve himself and get a drink of water. When he returned, Draco whispered “What time is it?”

“I don’t know,” Harry said as he settled back into bed. “Late. Or early. I didn’t check. I guess it worked?”

“Mm, must have. I heard a big hullabaloo at midnight, but I was already here in bed with you.”

Harry smiled and traced Draco’s cheekbones with his thumb.“So confident it would work?”

“More like you earned it.” Draco peeked one eye open. “You scared the shit out of us, collapsing like that. We were debating calling Madam Pomfrey to make sure you were all right when the Headmistress appeared out of nowhere.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “Oh shit, was she pissed off?”

Draco had both eyes open now and mirrored Harry’s grin. “It would have been funny if we all weren’t so terrified. Clearly she was both horrified and impressed with our skill level and teamwork. I don’t think she anticipated inter-house unity coming back to bite her so hard.”

“Is she going to put them back?”

“No, but only because she doesn’t want to risk us injuring ourselves taking them down again.” Draco laughed, “Oh Harry, her face! I’ll have to pensieve it so you can see. She knows she’s completely lost control of us. She can’t wait to be rid of us, and probably regrets inviting us back in the first place.”

“Nah, she likes it.” Harry kissed the end of Draco’s nose, just to see him scrunch up his face. “So does this mean you get to stay here all the time?”

“There’s probably going to be a great deal of room swapping going on, so yes.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Harry echoed happily. He kissed Draco’s cheek and then his lips before rolling onto his other side. “Spoon me,” he said, pulling Draco’s arm over his waist.

“Every night.”

Harry happily extinguished the lumos, and tried to calm his brain down for a few more hours of sleep.

\--------

Their success with the chaperoning spells was obvious the next morning when mixed couples emerged from every room down the corridor. Harry had to field “Are you all right?” style questions all morning long, but he didn’t mind. Now that everyone had a fair shot at sleeping spaces, Draco could stay with him every night and that was all that mattered to him.

Headmistress McGonagall met with Hermione and Mandy to talk about their research and some magical repairs to the castle that the staff hadn’t found time for last summer. Or sufficient magical power. Apparently it had taken three Professors to hold the wards in the corridor while McGonagall and Flitwick wove in the new charms. The Headmistress had much to say about the foolhardiness of five students pulling them apart. But she also had to acknowledge that Harry’s magical power could be harnessed to help the school.

If he _wanted_ to help.

And he _did_ , but also… he hated to think it, but he was a little tired of people asking him for things. And this one sounded risky. But it was _Hogwarts_. And he just didn’t _know_ what he wanted to do about it. So of course, he asked Draco under the light of a soft _lumos_ in the safety of his bed.

“I think you’d be putting yourself at great risk,” Draco said immediately. Then he sighed, “But I also think you’ll like leaving your mark on a place that means so much to you.”

Harry _would_ like that. Not necessarily leaving his mark, but helping to fix the broken things in the school he loved. The staff had worked hard last summer to restore the castle, but some things took too much time and had to be put off for later. Now was his chance to help. “You think I can do it?”

“Of course you can! You’re Harry Potter! Defeater of Dark Lords, Saviour of all!”

“Don’t call me that,” Harry grumbled, his face going red.

Draco poked him in the belly, laughing, “It’s your _name_ , silly goose. What else should I call you?”

“Don’t say it like that. Like a trademark. I’m just me, you know.”

Draco kissed his lips. “I know. And I think the Headmistress would never ask it of you if she didn’t think you could manage.”

“How does this fit into the life plan we’ve got going? This wouldn’t be an ongoing thing. Probably just for the summer. Maybe summer after as well? It might be hard to fit in around my regular job. Whatever that might be.”

“Actually, I think it’ll fit in nicely.” Draco turned onto his back, and Harry curled up against his side. “I’ve been wondering how much of a ‘regular job’ sort of bloke you really are. The more you talk about what you want, the less I think you want to be tied down by any one thing.”

“Except you,” Harry said, with a small bite to Draco’s shoulder.

“Of course. But seriously, I think you’d be happiest just letting things happen around you. No plans or demands for a while, just letting things… _be_.”

“I’ll need a job at some point.”

“But will you? You’ve got your family money, I’ll have my lab. We can get by.”

“That sounds kind of lazy.” And awesome, but Harry didn’t want to admit that out loud.

“So you pick up jobs as needed here at school. Say, three weeks fixing the wards over the summer, and six weeks of flying lessons in autumn. Maybe put together a month long unit of Defence tutoring right before NEWTs. And in between, we’ll travel and spend time together in our cottage. We can make it work.”

Harry rolled to cover Draco’s body and gave him a long, slow kiss. “Have I told you today that you’re brilliant?”

“Well, earlier you were _quite_ specific about _certain_ parts of me that were _definitely_ brilliant.”

“It’s all of you.” Harry said with a smile. “All of you is brilliant.”

Draco moaned against Harry’s lips. “Mm, I love you too.”

And that earned him another kiss.


	14. Chapter 14

“How was your talk with McGonagall?” Draco asked as Harry sat next to him at dinner on Wednesday.

“It was good. Hey Mandy. Justin, what a nice surprise. You don’t usually sit with us.”

Justin pointed over his shoulder, “Hannah got Millicent to switch tables. Can you believe it?”

“Not really.” Harry craned his neck to see through a clump of students. “How’d that happen?”

“Hannah’s been working on it for a while. She thinks it’s a good idea for Millicent to branch out, meet new people. Daphne went with her to sit with Ollie. And it made our table a little crowded. So I thought I’d join you lot here.” 

Harry started serving up his food, and smiled at Draco sitting patiently next to him. “McGonagall said the train leaves on the twenty-fifth and then the staff take their own little holiday, which,” he leaned in close to whisper, “she implied involved a _lot_ of alcohol.” Harry sat back, grinning. “So she’s thinking maybe the first or second of July for getting started. She’d like me to meet with Flitwick a few times beforehand to get a sense of what I can manage without passing out.”

Justin whistled. “Impressive magic, that was. What do you think they’ll have you doing?”

“I’m not sure. Probably helping to hold the wards. I don’t really know much about weaving them in.”

“Did you ask if I could stay here with you?” Draco asked, his face more worried than Harry would have liked.

He laced their fingers together and gave them a squeeze. “Of course I did. She offered to let us stay here in the castle, but I told her we might be looking at renting something in Hogsmeade. I hope that’s all right.”

“No, that’s brilliant. I’ll send an owl to Mother and see what she says. I might go home for a few days, but I want to spend the summer with you.”

The thought thrilled Harry, especially if they had a home of their own. What would it be like to cook dinner with Draco and eat at a tiny table, just the two of them? To sit by a quiet fire under a shared blanket? Or take a walk through a little garden they tended together? This long, slow drag to begin their life together felt like an eternity. 

But then he remembered they’d only been dating for about a month and perhaps he was moving his fantasies along a little too quickly. And perhaps Narcissa would want her baby boy home for the summer. Without Harry, Draco would have been working on his second year of his Potions Mastery at the Manor. And now she would be alone through her final year of house arrest.

Harry wanted to ask about Narcissa, but the conversation sailed on without him with the arrival of Blaise, Theo, and Tracey. So Harry filed it away to wonder about later. After he finished eating, Harry followed Seamus and Ron back to their room to wait on Dean and Neville for cards.

“How’re the sleeping arrangements working out?” Harry asked as he sat next to Ron on Seamus’s bed.

“Fucking brilliant,” Seamus said, a dumb grin on his face. “Waking up next to Lavender is… you know - waking up alone is rough. For her. And having someone there. Someone close... it’s fucking brilliant.”

 _Excellent_ , Harry thought. The risk had been worth it if things were improving for Seamus. Maybe now that he and Lavender could help each other at night, Seamus would lay off Draco. 

As Dean and Neville joined them, Seamus clapped his hands together. “All right, let’s make this snappy. You lot have to be out by ten.” Seamus shuffled the cards and looked at all of them with a significant look. “The quaffle is going through the hoops tonight, if you catch my drift, and I don’t want a late start.”

“Ew, gross, Seamus. In this bed we’re sitting on now?” Dean said, scrunching up his face and pulling his knees to his chest.

“Thanks, idiots,” Neville said, staring at the bed with disgust, “I managed to forget we play cards on the bed Seamus has been defiling all week.”

Seamus dealt cards to everyone, ignoring their sour faces. “As a matter of fact, it’s that time of the month for Lavender and so, no, I have _not_ been defiling the bed.”

“For the love of fucking Merlin,” Dean groaned, “please do not _ever_ share that shit again.”

But Seamus kept right on talking over him. “In fact, it’s cleaner now than usual because I didn’t want to wank with Lavender here so… you’re welcome.”

“I vote we move to Ron’s bed,” Neville said.

Seamus tossed a Bean into the centre of the bed. “Wrong again, Hermione slept here last night. Ante up, everyone.”

“Ugh,” Neville moaned, staring at the beans in front of each of them. “I _eat_ those Beans!”

“Let’s move to Draco’s bed,” Harry said quickly. “He’s been with me all week.” Neville and Dean shot off the bed, while Ron and Harry gathered the Beans and cards. 

“Defiling _your_ bed, but you don’t see me whining about it!” Seamus grumbled as he followed.

Harry dropped his pile of Beans on the bed to redistribute. “You’re the one that brought it up! No one - absolutely no one - asked about whatever you’re getting up to -”

“Or _not_ getting up to,” Ron interjected with a laugh.

“- with Lavender. And I’m not _defiling_ my bed so just - ugh, why are we talking about this?”

“Please, I’ve seen you looking at that git all starry eyed. There’s no way you two aren’t...” he made a rude hand gesture with a scrunched up face.

Harry shrugged, “Yeah, but I’m not talking to _you_ about it. I bet two Beans.”

As they tossed in their Beans, Seamus dealt out new cards and said, “Man, that’s gotta be the best thing about two blokes together - no days off for weird girly shit. And I bet he wants it all the time, too, right? Damn… if not for how much I love Lavender’s -”

“Please shut the fuck up!” Dean yelled loudly, making Ron and Harry laugh. “Can we get through _one_ game where we don’t have to talk about Lavender’s - everything?”

“All right, all right! Fuckin’ calm down already.” Seamus looked at his cards and nudged Harry. “He wants it all the time though, right?”

Dean growled and threw his cards and a handful of Beans at Seamus. “Harry, don’t answer that,” he yelled as he tackled Seamus off the bed to the floor.

Ron, Harry, and Neville broke into loud laughter, watching their friends wrestle on the floor.

“You know, Seamus,” Harry said lightly, “if you’re bi-curious, I know a Ravenclaw and her boyfriend that might be into some kinky sex games with you and Lavender. Or maybe that’s just ‘Chosen One’ privilege. She wasn’t clear when she offered.”

That started another round of laughter, especially when Seamus said snidely, “I’ll see what Lavender has to say,” and dodged a knee to the stomach from Dean.

“Oi!” Ron yelled. “Cards! Get off him, Dean!”

Dean bit Seamus on the arm, making Seamus squeal like a pig, and then sat back on the bed. “Let’s redeal, this hand is shit.”

“You’re just jealous because you don’t have a girlfriend,” Seamus said, dusting himself off and sitting across from Dean. “What’s up with you and Luna? I thought you said you were going to ask her out this week.”

Dean shuffled the cards and said, “I don’t know. I asked her about Blaise, and she was vague in a very Luna way. I don’t want to jump in if he’s… whatever’s happening there.”

Harry sorted his cards and tossed in a Bean to ante. “Yeah, Blaise isn’t into Luna. He’s got his eye on someone else.”

“Someone else, who?” Dean asked.

“Just - someone else. He’s only talking with Luna because she’s helping him with her weird therapy things. It’s nothing.”

“Is it someone we know?”

“Of course it’s someone you know,” Harry said evasively, “we all know the same people. He doesn’t want to make a big deal about it.”

“Oh,” said Dean, sorting his cards with care. “Well maybe… I’ll ask her out.”

“She’d probably like to sit with you for the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff game,” Neville suggested. 

Ron nudged him gently. “You don’t have to be nervous. You know she’ll say yes. Luna loves everything and everyone. I bet two.”

“Yeah but…” Dean shrugged, “With Luna, everyone is on the same plane, you know? She might just want to keep us as friends and I don’t want to make things weird. And maybe she likes Blaise… she gave him those parchment weights, you know?”

“That’s just Luna being Luna,” Harry said. “She likes making things and giving them away. Ask her out. Even if she says no, she’ll be nice about it and she’ll still be your friend after.”

“Ugh, this sucks and is difficult! Why can’t she ask _me_ out?”

“Because it honestly won’t occur to her that you want to. Do it!” Ron commanded. “Tomorrow! By dinnertime!”

“I’m in for two and raise two,” Dean said instead of answering.

“I’m out,” said Neville, making everyone groan.

“Nev, are you ever going to finish a hand? Why are you even here?”

“Free Beans,” he grinned, swiping a few from Ron’s pile. Then he frowned at them. “But I’m not sure I want these.”

“I’ve got some special treats from Collin,” Seamus said.

“I thought your Aunt Liddie gave him hell for sending you alcohol.”

Seamus opened his trunk and pulled out a bakery box. “Yeah, no more of that. These are _actual_ treats. Sweets from Aunt Liddie’s bakery.” He opened the box to reveal tiny pastries and presented them to Neville with a flourish. “Your majesty’s sweets.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Neville said, plucking one out with a smile.

\--------

Quidditch games always carried a general air of excitement for Harry, but even more when Gryffindor played. Even though House pride had faded considerably, he would always be a lion at heart. Draco joined him in the Gryffindor stands, but no one blinked an eye at his presence next to Harry anymore.

Dean sat on Harry’s other side, twisting his scarf in his hands. His eyes searched the oncoming crowd. “I didn’t see Blaise come up. Do you think he’s with Luna?”

“For the millionth time,” Harry whispered for Dean alone, “Blaise isn’t into Luna. He thinks she’s nice enough but he can’t handle that airy kind of nonsense for long. Okay? Whatever plans Luna said she had, it’s not with Blaise.”

“I know, I know. You already said -”

“Repeatedly,” Harry said, rolling his eyes.

“But she’s not here, and neither is he, and isn’t that weird?”

Harry didn’t want to tell Dean that Blaise was most likely hiding in a place to ‘accidentally’ run into Ginny post-game, when her adrenaline ran highest. In Harry’s opinion, that scenario would end with a bloody nose for Blaise, rather than kisses, but Blaise didn’t want to hear that.

“Can we please just enjoy the game?”

Hufflepuff had pulled together a good team, certainly better than expected given the lack of flying everyone did last year. But in the end, Liesel caught the snitch, and the flags in the stadium turned Gryffindor red. 

As the students started down the stands, Draco asked, “Are you going to go celebrate with your House?”

“No, I think I’d rather spend the afternoon with you.” That earned Harry a sweet kiss on the cheek.

Draco took his hand and instead of heading to the castle, they turned down the path towards Hogsmeade. Others must have seen their change in direction because a few other couples joined them as well. 

Madam Rosmerta set the back tables together so the eighth years could sit together, laughing loudly about various points in the game. They shared butterbeers and baskets of hot chips, and ordered bowls of creamy tomato soup with cheese toasties for dinner. As Harry looked around at all his friends, he marveled at the change in each and every one of them. How far they had come in the last six months! Would anyone have guessed they’d all grow so close? 

Was this what they would have been if there had been no Voldemort?

\--------

When Harry came out of the shower that evening, Draco was laid out across his bed reading for class. Could he convince Draco to dump that book and go to bed early? Harry left off his t-shirt and sat by Draco’s feet wearing only his boxers. 

“So,” Harry said, running a hand up Draco’s calf. “Are you almost done with that?”

Draco made a non-committal sound and shifted his legs, running a foot along Harry’s thigh. “Almost… this might be…” His words trailed off as he made a note on his parchment. He turned the page of his book and kept reading.

Harry rolled his eyes with a smile and pulled a shirt on, then debated wearing socks to bed. Draco had feet like ice - he was the one that should be wearing the socks. Blaise came in then, grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh good, you’re all right,” Harry said. “I wondered if you were going to put yourself in Ginny’s path and -”

“I did,” Blaise interrupted. “And it was brilliant.”

Draco slammed his book shut and aired his parchment to put away. “What happened?”

“What? You’re putting that away for him?”

Draco blew raspberries in Harry’s direction. “You’re a sure thing no matter when I finish. This might be hot gossip I want to hear first.” He nodded at Blaise. “What happened?”

“One of Clarence’s lackeys is the nephew of an investor with the Harpies. I asked my dear step-dad to put in a good word. Maybe drop a little hint that today’s game would be of interest.”

“And someone came? Who?”

“Phillip Ainsworth. He has a large share in Nimbus, and does some work with the International league. He sat with the professors. I caught Ginny after the game and introduced her. He was _very_ interested in her future plans for Quidditch, and delighted to hear she hoped to be a Harpy.”

“Wow, Blaise, that’s amazing!” Harry said, excited for Ginny and this spotlight on her talent.

Blaise rubbed his hands together. “It’s all coming together, boys.” He pulled a nightshirt from his trunk. “He said he might come back in May for the next Gryffindor game. I doubt that’ll happen, but he might send someone in his stead. Any attention is good attention.”

“What did Ginny say?”

“I think she was annoyed I stuck my nose in her business, but also appreciative of the leg up. The December training camp went well, but the competition is fierce. Especially for someone like her, that can’t afford the flashy equipment and all. It’s a shame when first-string material is dumped just because they couldn’t get sponsorship.”

“That’s great news,” Harry said. “I’ll see if I can catch up with her tomorrow. See what she says about things.”

Blaise winked and went to the bathroom to get changed. As soon as the door closed, Harry jumped into bed next to Draco. 

“So…” he smiled, “I see you’re done with your homework?”

\--------

Harry ended up having to sneak up on Ginny using his Invisibility Cloak. She jumped a mile when he threw it off, yelling, “Surprise!”

“Harry! Fuck!” she screamed, wand emerging within seconds. “You idiot! I could have hexed your face off!” She sighed and shook her head. “I knew you were looking for me. I don’t want to talk about Blaise.”

“Not even to acknowledge he did a good thing? Fine! Fine, but hey… a sponsor is good news, isn’t it?”

Reluctantly she smiled, “Yeah, it kind of is. Mr Ainsworth said I showed remarkable talent. I mean, competition is fierce for first string, but I could be a second string chaser with the right training. Can you imagine?” She grabbed his arm in excitement, brown eyes shining. “Harry, I could be chasing for the Harpies this summer!”

To celebrate, they went flying, of course. Later they were joined by Ron and Seamus, followed shortly after by Draco, Blaise, and Ernie.

Harry flew down to meet them. Blaise whispered quickly, “Did she mention me?”

“No,” Harry said apologetically.

But Blaise shrugged it off with a grin. “But she’s thinking about it.” He winked at Harry and took to the sky.

Harry shook his head at the rampant confidence, and greeted Draco. “Feels like an age since we got to fly together. You up for it?”

“Always.”

Harry didn’t understand the mysterious plan Blaise had concocted, and why it didn’t include seeking Ginny out for a conversation. He must understand something about her that Harry didn’t because his plan was working. While Harry expected her to storm off, instead she ignored Blaise and raced around the pitch with Ron and Seamus.

“It’s a form of desensitization,” Blaise said later that evening. “I make her angry every time I talk to her. But if I’m just _around_ without approaching her, then the sight of me annoys her less and less each time.”

“That’s a weird strategy.”

“I know but it worked for step-dad five.”

And then Harry had to hear the entire story of step-dads four and five, their bitter rivalry, and the patience five exhibited until four let his guard down. A single strike and four was out of the picture. Unfortunately, five’s heart couldn’t keep up with his young wife and he died with, as Blaise put it, “A disgustingly wide smile on his face. Utter wanker.”

On Wednesday, Flitwick pulled Harry aside to arrange a meeting that weekend, to assess the strength of his magic. Harry worried about what he’d be asked to do, and so Draco offered to go with him. But Hermione said it would likely be a few simple tests, and Harry felt ridiculous making Draco go with him, when Draco had homework to do.

It ended up taking nearly the entire day. Professor Flitwick had him dismantling ever more difficult charms on trinket boxes and magical instruments Harry didn’t recognise. A few he had to repeat over again for the Headmistress to witness. 

Then they started working more and more complex versions of simple spells. Flitwick had a box of chunky wooden blocks, a bag of gobstones, and a small box of seed beads. First Harry made them float - all the blocks, then all the gobstones, and then each and every tiny fucking bead. Next he had to magically sort them by color. The blocks jumped into their groups, as did the gobstones. But the seed beads required much more concentration and effort. Harry almost cried when Flitwick asked him to light each object with a _lumos_. The blocks and gobstones were simple enough. But the beads...

He only _just_ managed it - lighting the room with a blinding glow from a billion tiny points of light. Three seconds later, he dropped his head to his desk. “I can’t anymore,” he muttered, “too tired.”

“That was quite an impressive feat, Mr Potter. Quite impressive! I can only manage half that!”

Harry grunted an affirmative noise. “Does this mean we’re done?”

Flitwick gave him a sympathetic grin and then brief instructions on meditation techniques that would put him more in tune with his magic. “We’ll try again in one month’s time. Sleep well, Mr Potter,” he said with a squeaking giggle.

Ha! As if Harry could do anything _but_ sleep right now. He trudged around the corner to his room and collapsed with a moan next to Draco in his bed.

“How did it go?” Draco asked, rubbing lightly down Harry’s back.

“He was mean and horrible and I had to keep doing magic and now I’m tired,” Harry mumbled into his pillow. He pulled his glasses off and tossed them somewhere to the left of the bed, not caring where they landed. He could summon them in the morning.

Draco scooted closer to kiss Harry’s cheek, and wrapped an arm around his waist. “Mm… want me to be extra nice to you?” His fingers wriggled into the waistband of Harry’s jeans.

Harry whined, “Damn it, I can’t… I’m too tired for sex.” Did he truly deserve to suffer this much?

“It’s all right,” Draco said with a sigh. “There’ll be other days.” 

Draco’s hand slid up and down Harry’s back again. Harry wriggled and tugged at his shirt until he could throw it off to the side too. “That feels nice, though.”

Harry got another quick kiss on the cheek, and then Draco sat up to straddle his hips. He whispered an incantation, and then something warm drizzled down Harry’s back and the scent of almonds filled the air.

“What is that?” he asked.

“Almond-scented oil,” Draco said. “It’s pulled from a bottle in my trunk. Shh… just relax.”

His hands, now slick with oil, ran gently up and down Harry’s back, and then with more pressure. After his hands bumped Harry’s waistband twice, Harry fumbled with the button and zip so he could push them down his hips a little. Again and again Draco’s hands moved up and down his back, his arms, and up into his hair, massaging lightly. It made Harry’s drowsy body relax into the mattress and drift happily between sleep and awake.

When Draco’s hands seemed to linger over the flesh of his hips, Harry muttered, “Oh Draco… are you thinking about fucking me?” He laughed when the fingers tightened and Draco leaned down to kiss between his shoulder blades.

Draco’s hands slid up his sides, and under his arms to hug him. “Harry, you are just so, so beautiful.”

Harry wriggled his hips against the hard cock grazing his lower back. “You can come on me, if you want.”

“I shouldn’t,” Draco said, but denied his words by immediately pumping at his cock. “It’s so selfish…” he tried again.

Harry moaned and arched his back, tilting his head against his pillow so Draco could kiss and nibble at his neck. “I know you’re thinking about it. One day… when we’re in our cottage all alone…” _Fuck_ , Harry couldn’t wait for that day to come.

“Yes…” Draco sighed. His hand moved faster, bumping against Harry on every upstroke.

“You’ll bend me over the nearest surface and just… slide right inside me.” Harry moaned lightly, and then smiled when Draco did the same. Warmth spread through Harry, not just from their combined body heat. He loved hearing those sounds from Draco. “It’s going to be so hot… and so slick… and so tight…”

“Fucking hell… yes…”

His heart beat faster and a drowsy arousal rolled through him. “I’m going to scream your name while you drive your cock into me so hard…” 

Harry wished he had it in him to enjoy this fantasy to the fullest, but his tired body refused to cooperate. He focused, instead on the puff of Draco’s breath on his neck, and the rhythmic motion of his hand. Harry moaned in appreciation when Draco’s free hand ran into his hair, tugging lightly. He bit down on the nape of Harry’s neck.

“Yes,” Draco mumbled, “fuck those spoons right off…”

Harry laughed into his pillow. “That’s right, love, fuck those spoons,” he agreed, mentally rolling his eyes. What kind of weird, kinky shit was Draco imagining that involved _spoons_?

Draco gave one more involuntary tug of Harry’s hair, then groaned loudly in his ear. Harry felt the hot splatter of come on his back. He sighed happily at the release, even if it wasn’t his own, and relaxed into his pillow.

“Harry,” Draco sighed, kissing along his shoulder. He sat up and skimmed his fingers in a zig-zagging line down Harry’s back, presumably avoiding his mess. “You look gorgeous.” 

The magic of a cleaning charm swept across him, and then Draco lightly massaged up and down his back again. “Are you sure I can’t help you out?”

“I wish… but next time,” Harry mumbled, rubbing his face on his pillow and settling in. He didn’t even care he was only half dressed. He’d slept in worse conditions.

“I can at least make you more comfortable.” Working quickly but gently, Draco eased Harry’s jeans and pants down his legs. 

Harry wanted to protest that he didn’t want to sleep naked. There were too many other people around, and a subconscious fear a nighttime emergency would arise. But Draco already knew that so Harry held quiet. Apparently they weren’t settling in to sleep just yet. As Draco’s hands massaged the backs of Harry’s thighs, and down his calves, Harry mumbled, “What’s with the spoons?”

“What spoons?”

“‘Fuck the spoons right off,’ that’s what you said.”

“Oh,” Draco laughed. He lifted Harry’s feet into soft flannel material, and pulled it up his legs. His pyjama bottoms? Harry didn’t want to open his eyes to check. “I was just… picturing you bent over our breakfast table and, erm… you know, the spoons rattling off the table.”

“Nice,” Harry said with a smile. “We’ll try that first thing. Mm, thanks for the pyjamas.”

“They’re yours. I bought you a set, just like mine.”

“You did?” Harry cracked one eye open to look down at his legs. And yes, they were covered in red and gold plaid pyjamas. “You got me Gryffindor jammies?”

“For my brave lion.” Draco kissed him on the cheek and tucked the covers in around them both. “Something cosy to sleep in.”

“I love you.”

“I know.”

And wrapped in warm pyjamas, a warm duvet, and a warm boyfriend, Harry drifted happily off to sleep.

\--------

The week flew by in a flurry of lessons, mid-term exams, and plans for the upcoming Easter holiday. Harry wanted to run away with Draco to somewhere beautiful and isolated for the week, but with their summer plans constantly changing, it made the most sense for Draco to visit Narcissa while he could. So Harry made plans to go to the Burrow with Ron and Ginny. 

Hermione was taking a portkey to Australia, in the hopes another visit would help her parents with their transition back to England. “I’m just not sure they want to move back,” she said sadly.

“Maybe once you’re out of school?” Ron suggested.

“I don’t know,” she said. “It’s not surprising, really… They have a life there and all. Maybe it’s unfair of me to ask them to give that all up.”

“And a portkey is easy enough to arrange, right?” Harry said. “You can visit Australia as easily as you could visit anywhere else.”

“You’re right.” Hermione nodded and smiled at her two boys. “Thanks for cheering me up.”

Harry and Ron shared a look, knowing it hadn’t worked, but letting it go all the same.

For the train ride to London, Harry wore the black button-down shirt he’d worn on their first date, and tried his hand at the eyeliner spell. Draco’s eyes widening in appreciation made Harry’s nervousness fade. Even if they wouldn’t be seeing each other for a week, at least this way Draco would be thinking of Harry often. They let the others leave the train first so they could share one last kiss in their empty compartment before going their separate ways.

“I’m going to miss you,” Harry whispered.

“Not like I’ll miss you.”

Draco kissed him one more time, then led the way onto the platform. “Safe Apparating! I’ll see you Tuesday next.” He shouldered his bag, then turned on his heel to Disapparate.

On the long train ride, Harry had managed to forget he had the eyeliner on until he walked into the Burrow, and both Molly and Arthur greeted him with surprised faces. He nearly kicked Ron for not reminding him to remove it. Nervously he ran his hand through his hair, wishing he’d thought to take out the green highlights as well.

Molly shook her head with a fond smile. “Just promise me if piercings or tattoos are next, you find a place with proper charms certifications.” Harry laughed and let himself be enveloped in a fierce hug. “You’re still looking a little thin. The roast is nearly ready.”

She set out platters of food while Arthur spelled dishes and flatware to the table. Ginny told them about the Quidditch game, and Mr Ainsworth’s attendance. While Ron filled them in about Hermione, George Apparated in with a loud crack.

“George!” Ginny squealed, jumping up to hug him. “I didn’t know we’d be seeing you today!”

George, looking a little worn but still smiling, sat across from Ron, next to Harry. “Couldn’t miss out on a welcome home feast! It’s good to see you lot. How’re things at school?”

Talk soon turned to plans for the week, and George begged his parents not to make a fuss for his birthday on Thursday. “I know twenty-one is a big deal, but I - I can’t handle it. Dinner is fine. But no cake. No presents. No fuss, all right?”

“Is the shop going to be open?” Ron asked. “I can help out this week, if you like.”

George sighed in relief. “That would be great.”

Ron went to the shop every day, reporting secretly to Harry and Ginny that George put on a brave front for Molly and Arthur when in reality he had a hard time focusing on work, and even more now that his first solo birthday was approaching. The birthday dinner was a quiet one, despite the extra people. Bill and Fleur came, along with Percy and Audrey. Subdued conversation dragged on, with everyone afraid to mention the large Fred-shaped hole in the room. 

At the end of the meal, Molly passed a tray of mini raspberry tarts around. “I know you said no cake, but we need some sort of sweet for after dinner.”

“I don’t even like raspberry tarts,” George grumbled as he passed the tray to Harry.

“Good,” she said, “then I haven’t ruined a favourite of yours by serving it to you while you’re in mourning.” She sniffed and busied herself with sending the dirty plates to the sink for a washing spell.

George grumbled something under his breath. “What was that?” she asked, hands on her hips. “Regretting your decision? Perhaps thinking you might like to celebrate after all?” At George’s sheepish shrug, she harrumphed loudly. “Well, then. Good thing I didn’t listen to you, now isn’t it?”

She flicked her wand behind her into the kitchen and a tall, glossy chocolate cake emerged from a cupboard. “Fourteen years I’ve been making this cake for your birthday, and you think I’d stop now?” She set the confection in front of George, who looked at it with glistening eyes.

“Thanks, Mum,” he said softly, rising to hug her.

“Oh my boy… These traditions, these memories are what we have left of him. We have to keep them.”

George wiped his eyes and nodded. “It’s just so much trouble… I didn’t want to put you to extra work.”

“It’s not extra work to remember those we love. He’d want us to fuss.” She cut two slices of the cake and set them on one plate. “Here, you can have Fred’s slice.”

With the dam broken, stories flowed of Fred and George and birthdays past. Fred had seen the chocolate crepe cake recipe in _Witch Weekly_ when they were younger and a tradition was born. They’d had it with strawberries, with peppermint, with marshmallow, with peanut butter, and one memorable year with caramel. But nothing beat the original, decadent chocolate and all its fussy layers.

Ginny followed George home for the night, and when she returned in the morning with a smile on her face, Harry knew things were finally improving for her. As soon as Ron left for the shop, Harry dragged Ginny out to go flying. 

“It’s good to see you smiling again,” Harry said when they stopped for a rest. He sat next to their brooms with his back against a tree.

“It feels good to smile.” She stretched out on the ground, tucking her hands behind her head and closing her eyes against the light. “I talked with George last night.”

“I figured as much.”

“I told him about Blaise. And - everyone always leaving me.”

“Oh,” Harry said. Aiming for nonchalant, he asked, “What did he say about it?”

Ginny laughed at him. “Real smooth, Potter. He agreed with me. Blaise was a self-centred arse who didn’t deserve me.” 

“Figures he would say that about the idiot that broke his baby sister’s heart.”

“It was good, though. Nice to have someone on my side.” She sighed heavily and scooted closer to him to rest her head on his shoulder. “I’m not ready to forgive him. Not ready to move on.”

“Okay. That’s okay too.” Harry put his arm around her shoulder and kissed the top of her head. “Blaise really was an arse, wasn’t he?”

“It’s too late,” she laughed, “I already know you love him.”

“It’s that smile… it _does_ things to me.”

“Should Draco be worried?” she asked, with a smile in her voice.

“Of course not. For one, Blaise is pretty stuck on you. For another, the smile does the same thing to him, he’s just had longer to get used to it.”

“Maybe one day it’ll work on me.”

Harry squeezed her in a sideways hug. “Only when you’re ready.”

\--------

Fuck every single person that crowded their compartment on the train back to school. 

Harry winced as the corner of the washbasin dug into his hip. But he didn’t care that they had to hide in the tiny, cramped loo if it meant he could kiss Draco freely. “Fuck, I missed you,” he groaned. “I forgot how good you smell.”

“I thought about that eyeliner every fucking day.” Draco nipped at Harry’s lips and scraped his fingers along Harry’s scalp. “You’re so gorgeous. More than I remembered.”

“How long do you think we can hide here?”

Draco whined, “Not long enough. We should have Apparated to Hogsmeade.”

“I’d say ‘next time’ but thank fuck there won’t be a next time.”

“I can’t wait to have you all to myself,” Draco whispered, claiming Harry’s mouth in another searing kiss.

But first they had to endure the long train ride, and the ‘How was your holiday?’ conversations. Then they endured the usual chaos at the station, and a hurried dinner. Finally, finally… they made it to Harry’s bed and had the adrenaline-fueled reunion that Harry had been thinking about for the entire holiday.

He went to sleep, sated and warm in Draco’s arms, at last feeling like he’d come home.

\--------

With the Easter holiday behind them, the eighth years turned their attention to their upcoming NEWTs. While Draco worked harder than ever on his research, Harry, if possible, worked even less. He did his best not to disturb Draco, but couldn’t find it in himself to care about these lessons anymore. Unfortunately for him, Hermione had the same fierce dedication.

“You’re going flying _again_?” Hermione asked.

Harry looked down at his broom, “Erm, yes?” Then he caught sight of lecture-mode Hermione and knew he had to cut that off before it began. “It’s just for the morning, while Draco’s brewing! I promise I’m still working on things!”

Hermione frowned at Ron, “And I suppose you want to go with him?”

“I mean, we have all afternoon to work on Transfiguration, right?” He shrugged sheepishly. “I don’t need NEWTs any more than Harry does -”

“It’s not about _need_ , it’s about doing your best!”

“‘Mione, love, I know you mean well but if I look at those books any longer I’m going to scream,” Ron said gently. “I need this break, okay? We’ll meet you in the greenhouse for Herbology and I promise we’ll get back to it after lunch.”

Hermione’s face softened into a smile, albeit a nervous one. “Fine, yes, go. I - I’m sorry.”

“It’s nice being loved by you,” Ron said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

A spring breeze greeted them when they left the castle, filling Harry with anticipation. With school coming to an end, a new chapter of their lives would begin. What a shame they had to drag it out with lessons and exams. 

As they turned off the main path towards the pitch, Harry sighed. “What’s the point of it all? You’ve already got a job with George, Kingsley promised Hermione a place in the Ministry. What do we need to prove anymore?”

“I think Hermione just needs something to focus on, something concrete to manage. Her parents are still resisting the move back to England.”

“Oh, she made it sound like - I thought it was in the works for this summer.”

“Yeah, but the more she talks about it, the more I think she was putting a hopeful spin on things. This was really hard on them, you know? They’ve always been proud of her, even if they didn’t understand everything. But then to find out she can do something like this - wipe all their memories and just send them away? I don’t know, it’s broken something between them.”

“Oh,” Harry said. “Poor Hermione. I didn’t realise.”

“She’d probably prefer you didn’t mention it. She did what she thought was right at the time and it probably was. But now… her instinct is to manage things even more carefully than before. As if accounting for every outcome is proof of her love. I’m trying to help her see she doesn’t always need to manage everything.”

“You two are really good together,” Harry said with a smile.

“Well she likes to manage things and I need managing. But sometimes she needs to laugh and relax, and I can make that happen. It’s working so far.”

Harry met with Flitwick that weekend for another round of tests on his magic. When Harry had to admit he hadn’t done much meditation, Flitwick shrugged it off as though he expected as much. He encouraged Harry to call on his magic while he flew, not to use it, but to make himself more aware of it.

The following weekend, Harry consoled Draco when Slytherin lost to Hufflepuff at Quidditch. More like Draco faked sadness to get Harry to do the things he would have done anyway. But Harry didn’t mind because any bit of fun helped dispel the sadness surrounding the approaching anniversary of the final battle.

Harry didn’t know if it was better or worse to be at the school for the anniversary. Far away, he could easily shut himself away from everyone and mourn as he wanted, without everyone begging for his attention or thanking him unnecessarily. Or he could ignore it and pretend it was any other day. But at school, he could share his sorrows to lighten the burden while offering support to his friends that needed it, even if that meant enduring the general public along with it.

The Headmistress canceled lessons on Friday, and opened the Hogwarts gates to the visiting magical community with a heartwarming speech about bravery and courage. Hagrid had removed the Slytherin and Gryffindor tables from the Great Hall, to fill the space with large photos of the fallen. Filch placed benches and chairs in front of the photos so family and friends could sit with their loved ones. In the centre of the room, the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables bowed with the weight of food and drink for the guests. Stories were told and tears were shed as visitors traversed the castle and grounds.

Late in the afternoon, George and Percy found them. The Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione went together to the corridor where Fred had died. They sat in silence, hugging each other with quiet sniffles. George pulled away first, crossing to a suit of armor in an alcove that Harry didn’t want to remember was where they hid Fred’s body while the battle raged on. George pulled a small box from his pocket and attached it with a permanent sticking charm to the underside of the shin guard on the suit of armor.

“What’s that?” Ron asked.

“It’s a music box. It’ll play ‘Bouncing Baby Lobalug’ every time someone passes.” He walked past the armor to demonstrate and a cheerful jingle started to play. 

All at once, Ron and Ginny sang out, “Bouncing baby lobalug, bouncing in the deep!”

Percy covered his ears and shouted, “No, please don’t!”

“Bouncing baby lobalug will ink you in your sleep!”

All the Weasleys started laughing while Hermione and Harry shared wide-eyed confusion. Ginny wiped at her eyes. “Oh, that is just as annoying as Fred would want it to be.”

“Thanks,” Percy laughed, shaking his head. “I’m going to be singing that all week now.”

“That’s the idea,” George said, smiling sadly. 

The tune played one more time, then the corridor went silent. Wordlessly, they turned back to the Great Hall. Percy would be spending the night at the Burrow, but George planned to stay at the school. Harry searched the Hall, and found Draco sitting by a photo of a man Harry didn’t recognise.

“Who is this?” Harry asked, sitting on the bench next to Draco. He squinted at the nameplate. “Bradley Biddington. Did you know him?” The man seemed a few years older than them, his neat hair combed carefully and a small smile on his face. 

Draco shook his head but didn’t say anything. Harry scooted closer to put an arm around Draco’s shoulders. “Is this all right?” Harry whispered. Draco nodded and they sat together in silence for a long while.

“My parents -” Draco’s voice cracked. “My parents didn’t even have wands. Neither did I by the end.” He sniffed and wiped at his face. “Why did we get to survive when Bradley here doesn’t even have someone to mourn him?”

“He’s got flowers by his photo, someone must have come today.”

“I put those there.”

“Oh.” Harry thought about it for a moment. “You know, Molly and Arthur didn’t come to see Fred. It could be his parents, his family thought it would hurt too much. They could be mourning him at home.” Draco shrugged in a way that suggested he didn’t believe Harry, but they both let it go. 

Eventually, Harry fetched them a small plate of snacks to share. Draco half-heartedly picked the crumb topping off a pear strudel, but otherwise didn’t seem interested in eating. As the hours went on, the crowd continued to thin. Around midnight, McGonagall shrunk the pictures to a smaller size and moved them all to the head table. Flitwick conjured sleeping bags and pillows. Small groups gathered together and settled in for a night-long vigil.

The eighth years banded together, lost in their thoughts and sharing tears through the long night. The morning sun coming through the windows reminded Harry too vividly of that particular sunrise. The light hitting Voldemort’s face, the loud yells of their spells. And the Elder Wand, spinning through the air to land unerringly in his palm.

And Tom Riddle falling back like a puppet with its strings cut.

Someone pressed a mug of cocoa into his hands. The warmth spread through him, dispelling his gloomy thoughts as he took in the sad and hopeful faces of his friends. So many lost, yet so many left to go on living. They shared breakfast together, and slowly began to laugh again. 

Ron and Ginny walked George to the gates to say one more goodbye. Hermione and Harry watched from afar, not wanting to intrude on a private moment. “Think he’ll be okay?” Harry asked.

“He’s going to stay with Molly and Arthur a few days,” Hermione said. “And he promised to let someone know if he needed company.”

“You think Ron’s serious about joining George at the shop full time?”

“Oh absolutely. I think he was relieved when you said you didn’t want to be an auror. It gave him the excuse to bow out as well. He’ll be happy with George and the shop. Something exciting but in a safe way.”

“And you?” Harry asked, smiling at her.

“I don’t know. The world is our oyster, isn’t it? Today - I feel like I can do anything!” She shared a laugh with him and then hugged him tightly. “This one was the hardest. But we made it through.”

He couldn’t even find a complaint with the _Daily Prophet_ coverage of the event. Perhaps because the best photo of Harry included Draco at his side. Neville and Hannah had Millicent with them for most of the day. And there was a poignant shot of Tracey, Lavender, and Parvati at the memorial stone, while Theo and Seamus looked on sadly. The paper couldn’t spin that as anything other than the surviving students making peace with one another. 

After such an emotional weekend, it seemed mundane to show up for lessons the following week. Defence on Monday was particularly difficult, but Professor Mason cheered them all by teaching them a simple charm to deter puffskeins from eating ear wax and bogeys. He had a crate of puffs (both pygmy and full size) for the students to play with. It was probably Harry’s favourite lesson all year.

Days later, Harry and Draco celebrated three months together with a dinner and a long walk through Hogsmeade. They spoke with an estate agent about possibilities of renting a cottage on the outskirts of town. It hardly surprised them to find news of their impending housing situation in the next day’s paper.

“You might have better luck buying a place,” Blaise said. “You can fidelius the shit out of something you own.”

Harry frowned at the picture of them walking through town. “Who even took that picture and why do I have that stupid look on my face?”

“I think that’s when we saw that weird bird, remember?” Draco said, cutting it out carefully to put with the others. “Maybe we should use disguises next time we go looking. There are plenty of spells we can use to deter people that aren’t as extreme as a fidelius charm, so long as they’re set up before they know it’s us.”

“And there’s always the hope people will lose interest in me,” Harry said.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Good luck with that one.”

Over the next two weeks, Harry went flying with Gryffindor through all their practices. Ginny drove the team hard, desperate for a win to secure the Quidditch cup, as if their lead in points hadn’t already decided the matter. The possibility of Mr Ainsworth, or anyone else from the Harpies, coming to observe the game had her on edge. But the team wanted a win just as badly and flew their drills without complaint through practice after practice.

Finally, Harry felt peace in his world. He cuddled up every night with a boyfriend that got along well enough with his friends, and the end of term and true freedom grew ever closer. He and Draco began planning a trip to Paris for their first holiday abroad, looking to return to Hogsmeade to help restore the castle wards to full strength. 

Things couldn’t be better.


	15. Chapter 15

Even though the outcome to the final Quidditch match of the season was more or less already decided, Harry still went to the pitch brimming with excitement. Gryffindor was simply too far ahead in points, and Ravenclaw’s team was nowhere near as strong. Even if dumb luck had Ravenclaw catching the snitch in the first ten minutes, it wouldn’t be enough points.

The eighth years knew Mr Ainsworth hadn’t come this time, but true to his word, he’d notified the Harpies of Ginny’s talent, sending another witch in his place. Gossipy whispers said she was a recruiter for the Harpies, and she watched the game with a critical eye, keeping up a stream of commentary to Professor McGonagall for most of it.

After Liesel caught the snitch to secure the win, the students streamed from the pitch to the castle for lunch. Harry and some of the other eighth years joined the Gryffindor team on the pitch to congratulate them all on a good game. Near the Gryffindor changing room, Harry could see Blaise and Ginny, along with Headmistress McGonagall, Madam Hooch, and the visiting witch in deep conversation.

Unsurprisingly, Blaise’s smile had completely won over the middle-aged witch, given the way she batted her eyes at him in return. Harry wanted to yell from across the pitch that Blaise was only nineteen and she needed to get her shit together and stop flirting with young boys. But Ginny’s worried face stole his attention. 

When the witch gave Ginny one last sympathetic pat on the arm and then left with the headmistress and Madam Hooch, the others started making their way over. Ginny and Blaise didn’t notice, caught up in a budding argument. Snatches of words reached the group - Blaise mentioning a birthday, Ginny responding that it wasn’t soon enough. The winter training camp, next summer’s recruitment.

“You should have just left it the fuck alone!” Ginny said in a huff.

“I can’t!” Blaise yelled. “I love you! And I want to take care of you!”

Ginny scoffed at him, “Fucking me a few times in exchange for information isn’t the same as love.”

The rage slipped out of Blaise like water through a sieve. “Is that all it was to you?” he asked.

Ginny didn’t have time to respond because Seamus ran past Harry, barrelling into Blaise and shoving him to the ground. “What the fuck?” he yelled at Blaise. “You slept with Ginny?”

“Seamus!” Ginny yelled, tugging his arm. “Leave it, this doesn’t concern you!”

“The hell it doesn’t!” He pulled his wand and pointed it at Blaise. “Tell me it’s true so I can hex your bollocks off.”

Blaise’s face moulded into the haughty stare Harry remembered so well from the beginning of the year. Stiffly he said, “I don’t see how it’s any of your business.” How did he hold himself together so calmly in the face of Seamus’s rage?

Both Ron and Neville approached Seamus with more caution, wary of his shaking wand. “Hey, Seamus,” Neville said softly. “Let’s put the wand away.”

“No! Not this time! You _heard_ her! She said - he - he -”

“Seamus,” Ron tried, “Ginny knows how to take care of herself… She’s allowed to…” he swallowed hard, with a quick glance at Ginny. “She can make those choices for herself.”

“That’s bullshit!” Seamus yelled. “We protected her! All of them. To keep them safe from pieces of shit like this. And he took advantage of it? Trading information for sex?” Sparks flew from the end of his wand, making everyone back up a step.

“Fuck,” Ginny whispered, tears brimming in her eyes. “Seamus, please. I didn’t mean it! It wasn’t like that.”

“Bloody fucking hell!” Seamus threw more sparks from his wand. “Then what was it?” He turned to her, keeping Blaise in sight, especially when Blaise slowly stood up. “You expect me to believe you slept with him for - for love? Because you really wanted to? They were the enemy!”

Ginny pressed her lips together and choked back a sob. “I know.”

“We protected you! Tried to keep you safe and you were -” His chest heaved and he pointed his wand at Blaise again. “I know you took advantage of her. She would have never chosen you!”

“Seamus, please,” Ginny said softly, taking his hand. “Let him go.” She turned pleading eyes on Harry. “Get him out of here.”

“NO!” Seamus yelled, his wand hand trembling.

Harry wanted to pull his wand out too, but worried that would escalate the situation. It didn’t matter, because magic buzzed under his skin waiting to be used with or without the wand as a conduit. Draco gave Harry’s fingers a squeeze, and when he received an accidental shock in return, he moved slowly to Blaise’s side. 

At the same time, Lavender stepped between Seamus and Blaise. “Seamus,” she said softly, but he shook his head violently. “Baby, please,” she tried again. Carefully she reached for him, cradling Seamus’s face and drawing his cheek to hers. “You have to stop,” she whispered.

Draco gave Harry a nod before leading Blaise away, knowing Harry would shield them if Seamus managed to cast. And it felt a near thing. But Lavender ran a hand down Seamus’s arm and squeezed his wrist. With a wince of pain he dropped the wand and hugged her tightly instead.

A collective breath was released. Ron turned to Ginny, enveloping her in a hug. “Gin, I’m so sorry.”

“No,” she cried into his chest. “I’m sorry. About all of it.” She pulled away to wipe at her face. “Fuck, I should have said something before. But I didn’t know how.”

“Did he hurt you?” Neville asked.

“No!” she said quickly. “No, of course not. It was - both of us.” She pressed her lips together, and managed a small smile. “It was… after that second break-in of Alecto’s office? Remember?”

Ginny and Neville shared a quiet look, and judging by Seamus’s confused glances at both of them, Harry wasn’t the only one that missed out on something from last year.

“And then after that…” she continued.

But Hermione interrupted. “You don’t have to say.” She looked at the gathered group and squared her shoulders. “If he didn’t hurt you, then really the rest of it is none of our business.”

Ginny’s shoulders sagged in relief, and she nodded. “I know it was stupid and it was dangerous. But it ended almost as soon as it began. They threatened his mother, like they threatened Augusta and… he chose their side.”

“Fucking Slytherins,” Seamus muttered. “How could you -”

“Don’t,” Lavender said harshly. “Don’t you even dare, Seamus Finnigan. You know what it was like. For all of us. You don’t get to pass judgement on her.” She took his arm. “Come on, we need to break this up. We’ll talk about it later when you’re feeling calmer. We’re going to the changing room. I trust you all can keep out for an hour or so?” She didn’t wait for a response, and with her superior strength pulled a resisting Seamus to the privacy of the Gryffindor changing room.

Harry scooped up Seamus’s wand and gave it to Neville. “It’s probably best you keep this.”

Absently Neville slid the wand into the pocket with his own wand. His eyes, though, stayed focused on Ginny. “Is that why things changed so much in April? Why you -”

“Enough, Neville,” Hermione said. “She doesn’t have to tell us.”

And once upon a time, Hermione’s word would have been enough. For all their teasing and various strengths and skills, they had all looked to Hermione as a driving force in their early years. But the year away from school had left a void that Neville filled. And the others looked to him for guidance as much as they ever looked to Hermione or Harry.

Hannah shared a fond look with Neville for a moment, then turned a wide smile on the group. She linked arms with Harry. “Maybe we should head in for lunch, yes?” She leaned into him, pushing him along and taking hold of Dean as well. “Hermione, are you coming?”

Ron looked from Ginny to Neville. Then his eyes met Hermione’s. “Yeah, we’re coming,” he said. He gave Ginny another hug and kissed the top of her head. He whispered something to her that made her smile and shake her head. Then, taking Hermione by the hand, he followed Hannah, Harry, and Dean to school. Liesel and Paulina, both still in their windswept, sweaty Quidditch gear, followed along, sharing whispers and sad looks at Ginny and Neville.

It only took a single sweep of the Great Hall for Harry to determine Draco and Blaise weren’t there for lunch. He watched for several more minutes anyway, and had a brief out-of-body experience _watching_ the gossip spread. What would Ginny find when she returned to the castle? Everyone talking about her affair with Blaise? Bringing up more shit from last year? Would they assign blame or hate?

When Harry opened the door to his dorm, both Blaise and Draco had their wands out, pointed right at him. Draco sighed in relief, “Oh thank Merlin, we didn’t know who might find us first.”

“Lavender’s got Seamus and Neville has his wand anyway. How are you doing?” Harry asked Blaise.

He rubbed a tired hand over his eyes. “I’ve been better. Is Ginny all right?”

“I think she will be. Neville’s talking with her now. He seems to know something about last year.”

“He probably knows _everything_ about last year,” Blaise said. Gingerly he sat on the edge of his trunk. “What happened after we left?”

“Ginny started to explain about your - thing together. But Hermione stopped her. She said if you didn’t hurt Ginny, then it was none of our business.”

Blaise’s concern melted back into a cold stare. “It’s just lovely that that’s everyone’s first impression of events.”

“I’m sorry!” Harry said quickly. “It’s all the anger and secrecy! It makes it sound like something horrible or shameful happened!”

“It wasn’t like that!” Blaise said, a rise in tone the only betrayal of his inner turmoil.

“I know! I know,” Harry repeated, more calmly. “I’m sorry. Ginny said it wasn’t your fault, that it just happened. Willingly on both sides. She mentioned the threat to your mum ending things. And then Hannah and Lavender broke it up to let tempers cool.”

Blaise exhaled heavily. “What happens now? Do I need to be on alert around Finnigan?”

“I don’t know. Probably. We’ll have to see what magic Lavender works on him. And what Neville has to say. Seamus would follow him off a cliff so… We just have to wait and see.”

“That’s not very encouraging.”

But it was all they had. Ron and Hermione returned from lunch to report on the spreading gossip. Speculation had painted Ginny as some kind of secret spy, using her womanly wiles to seduce information out of besotted, unsuspecting Blaise Zabini, until she turned on him right before leaving school for the Easter holiday. Harry thought to himself that Ginny might enjoy this _femme fatale_ version of events.

Neville came back from the pitch to a gathering of eighth years waiting anxiously. “Ginny’s fine. She’s still upset, but she’s feeling better now.” He met Harry’s eye with far more seriousness than Harry had seen in a long time. “She said Hermione was right and last year was between her and Blaise, and everyone could, as she put it, ‘keep their fucking noses out of her business.’ So there you go.”

When the others started drifting away, Ron whispered, “We should go talk to her. Make sure she’s all right.”

“I just talked to her,” Neville said. “She’s fine. She said she was going to celebrate with the team and pretend Blaise didn’t happen. Maybe you can talk to her after dinner.”

When Draco took Blaise to the kitchen for a late lunch, Harry went next door to check on Neville. A soft knock was answered by a loud, “Come in!”

Harry did not expect to find Neville doing sit-ups in the middle of the room. Since when did Neville do that sort of exercise? Since last year, of course, Harry thought. That leaner, harder body hadn’t poofed into existence with magic.

With a loud huff, Neville dropped to the ground. “I’m trying to distract myself, not draw this out more.”

“I just want to know she’s all right.”

Neville groaned through another sit-up. “I already told you she was.”

“Nev… you know that wasn’t good enough.” Harry sat on Neville’s bed. “Will you stop that and talk to me?”

“Seven… eight… nine… thirty,” Neville huffed, then fell back with a sigh. “I’m getting out of shape. Seamus and I used to do fifty or sixty at a time and here I can barely manage thirty. I’m going soft.”

“If it’s peace that’s making you soft, that’s probably a good thing. Personally, I’m glad not to be training and worrying all the time.”

“Yeah,” Neville sighed. “I suppose you’re right.” He sat up again and flicked his wand at his shoes, releasing them from the floor. He sat cross-legged, leaning back against Justin’s trunk, facing Harry.

“How’s Ginny really doing?” Harry asked.

“She’s fine. Or she will be. She’s still trying to put Blaise into perspective and it’s - it’s difficult.” Neville ran a hand through his hair, wiping sweat away. “I always thought she was lucky. Ron too, you know. Growing up in that big family. How love must come so easily.”

It struck Harry anew how lonely it must have been for Neville to grow up with only an elderly grandmother and a smattering of elderly aunts and uncles. Although Harry couldn’t say he’d been much better off with Dudley and the other school children that hated him. Or at least feared Dudley too much to attempt befriending him.

“But it turns out… love is just as hard for her to understand as it is for us.” Neville looked up at Harry and stammered, “Er, not _us_ , I mean… obviously you’ve got lots of love, right? Enough to keep you alive when anyone else would have died.”

Harry’s throat thickened, thinking of a broken shell of a woman that couldn’t even recognise her own son. “You have love too, Neville. Even if it’s not easy to see.”

Neville nodded, but didn’t respond to that. Instead he said, “Ginny’s confused. About Blaise. About the war and everything that came with it.”

“I know.”

“She feels closed in here. Trapped by it all.”

Harry nodded in agreement, having felt the same from her. “If she thought she could get away with it, she’d hop on her broom and fly away from here. But she’s no Fred and George.”

“No,” Neville said. “She’s going to stick it out. Even if it hurts.”

“I think Ginny’s good at pushing away what hurts.”

“Too good.”

Harry left Neville to his brooding exercise and heard from Ron, who got it from Parvati, that Seamus and Lavender were staying in Hogsmeade overnight. Lavender hadn’t said more in her patronus, so they could only speculate on how Seamus was doing.

All the worry had worn Harry out. He collapsed on his bed and set his music blasting into the tiny space defined by his closed curtains. Thinking hurt too much and he didn’t like the way anxiety made his magic prickle under his skin.

Even with his eyes closed, he felt the curtains stir and could just imagine the flinch on Draco’s face at the assault of sound. He turned down the music and made space in the bed for Draco to lie down with him.

“A Green Day sort of day?” Draco asked, flipping the music tablet over to look at the pictures. “I can’t understand a word he says, but Billy Joe Armstrong is sure nice to look at.” He set the tablet down and rolled into Harry, resting his head on Harry’s shoulder and hugging him lightly. “Do you want to frost your tips like he does?”

Harry ran his hand along Draco’s forearm, fiddling with his bracelet, and smiled. “Marjorie said I’d have to trim it short for that. I’d have to style it every day.”

“Worth it.”

The sadness parted and a ray of soft sunlight shone through the gloom. He kissed the top of Draco’s head and sighed. “I want to run away with you.”

“We will. Soon.” Draco turned the volume up and held Harry while the music played on.

\--------

“You’d think that the worst thing about school would be the war and Voldemort,” Harry mused as the group headed down to dinner that evening.

“No?” Draco asked. “If we didn’t have that, this place would be a marvel.”

“See - that’s just it. You can take Voldemort out of your memories - most of them anyway - if you try really hard. Know what you can’t escape?” He paused outside the Great Hall doors. “All the eyes and ears. They’re all going to stare.”

“And that’s different, how?”

“It’s not,” Harry sighed. “I miss primary school when we could go home for the day and avoid all the drama for a while. Do you think I should sit with Ginny? Or would that make gossip flare up worse?”

“There is no right answer,” Ron said, reaching for the doors. “Do what feels right.”

Nothing felt right. The eyes and ears of the other students would follow him wherever he went. Sitting with Blaise or Ginny would lend support to one or the other, and draw attention to the two people that probably wanted the least amount of attention at the moment.

Or maybe not. As he entered the Great Hall, his eyes were immediately drawn to Ginny and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team at the centre of the table. Half standing, half sitting, and all wearing gold and silver crowns, they were laughing and singing, obviously still celebrating their win. At that moment, the food appeared, setting off a round of cheers as everyone found seats.

Harry sighed inwardly in relief, happy to see Ginny wasn’t suffering from gossip and unwanted attention. Blaise looked as unflappable as ever, following Harry and Draco to the Slytherin table. Eyes followed Blaise, but he walked with his usual confidence, above such petty things as gossip. He carried on with idle chatter at dinner, trading teasing comments with Tracey as though it were any other meal.

Through it all, Harry kept an eye on Ginny and her teammates. She, too, hid any distress with wide smiles and occasional bursts of laughter. Before the food vanished, he saw her leave with Liesel and Paulina. When she passed Ron, she leaned down to whisper to him and Hermione, then ruffled his hair and followed the two girls from the Hall.

“I’m going to catch up with Ginny,” Harry said. “I’ll see you upstairs.” He squeezed Draco’s hand and hurried after Ginny. She hadn’t gone far and stopped when he called her name.

“Harry! We were heading up early. We’re exhausted after the game and the after-party!”

“I bet.” He shuffled nervously, unwilling to ask about Blaise with Liesel and Paulina listening. “Er… what did the recruiter have to say?”

“Oh,” Ginny’s shoulders dropped. “Madam Goodwin. She said the Quidditch league has a very strict policy about age. Contracts start on the first of August, and _all_ players, _no_ exceptions, must be eighteen years of age.”

“No exceptions? Even for a birthday ten days later? That’s ridiculous!”

“Yeah, well, rules are rules so... She said a lot of players in my situation end up stronger for it, with a year to train before signing.”

“I’m sorry, Gin,” Harry said. She just couldn’t seem to catch a break. Not with the gossip, not with Blaise, not with her dream job.

“It’s fine. It’s what I knew would happen.” She smiled, although it didn’t have its usual brightness. “She said I’m worth keeping an eye on. That there’s a chance I could make second string my first year, which is rare. And they can save me a spot for their winter training camp.” She shrugged. “That’s the best I could hope for, with an August birthday.”

“Want me to -” He didn’t know how to phrase his question without sounding like a monumental berk.

Ginny laughed, genuinely this time. “Going to pull some strings, Golden Boy? Throw your scrawny weight around the Quidditch League bigwigs? Thanks, but no. I’ll weather this like anyone else in my place would.” She took his hand and went up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “It’ll be all right, Harry,” she said softly. 

She paused a moment, and he tried to read more from her expression. But he no longer knew every nuance of those brown eyes, as he once did. She smiled and squeezed his fingers, and he knew she would, indeed, be all right.

\--------

Seamus and Lavender returned late on Sunday evening. Tension radiated off Seamus as he scanned the common room, but the Slytherins had made themselves scarce as soon as Lavender sent her patronus to Parvati to alert their return. Ollie, Susan, and Hannah whispered in a corner, frowning when Seamus looked their way. 

Actually, it wasn’t just those three. Harry noticed Anthony and Michael also looking concerned, yet upset, while Sally-Anne looked like she might cry. Terry had an arm around her shoulders, his cool, evaluating look taking in the entire room. This blow-up between Seamus and Blaise rocked the previously calm seas of reconciliation. If this had been earlier in the year, the divide would have run clear and deep. But bridges had been built between the students, some tiny and fragile, others strong and steady. 

Harry didn’t want to greet Seamus with open arms, and see that he was all right. He wanted to spend the evening with his boyfriend and whine about their stupid lessons for tomorrow, maybe share a few kisses where no one could see them. But instead his Slytherin boyfriend thought it would be safer if he hid, while Harry stayed in the common room to monitor the situation.

Fuck that shit.

He wanted to rage, to throw a chair, to buzz Seamus with his magic. How had they gotten to this point, where they all tip-toed around one selfish arsehole holding a grudge like no one else? Words churned in his throat and buzzed against his lips, waiting to spill in a hurried, angry rush.

But then Neville was there, greeting Seamus with a long hug. And Harry watched Seamus crumble. 

Seamus, with his crass words and rapid insults. Seamus, full of fiery magic and brash bravado. Seamus, who never spoke softly when shouting would suffice.

Seamus clutched at Neville, shaking in silent tears. Behind him, Lavender rubbed at his back, then led Seamus and Neville away.

It hit Harry in the gut, this outward vulnerability from a friend that never showed his softest sides to anyone. A pall settled over the room, making Sally-Anne give in to quiet tears. Anger and confusion became a general sadness for everyone that lingered. Harry couldn’t stand it any more and sought refuge with the one person that could keep his pieces from flying apart.

“How is it out there?” Draco asked when Harry returned to his room.

The other Slytherins looked anxiously at him. “Is he all right?” Tracey asked.

“He’s… not great, no. But he’s in his room with Neville and Lavender, so… I guess you don’t have to hide here all night.”

“What do you think?” Tracey asked Theo. “Should we make a run for my room?”

“It’s better than staying here all night,” Theo said, standing with a long stretch. “What’s it going to be like tomorrow?”

“I guess we find out tomorrow,” Harry said. A knock cut off whatever else he might have said. It was Ollie.

“Hey,” he said softly, his eyes peering around Harry into the room. “I was looking for Daphne.”

“Yeah, come in,” Harry said, standing back. He noticed Susan lurking just behind. “You too, Susan.”

“I just came for Millie,” she said, her cheeks pinkening. She smiled when Millicent came to the door. “Are you all right?”

Millicent nodded and reached eagerly for Susan. “Harry says we can leave.”

Susan took her hand, lacing their fingers together tightly. “Yes, it’s a bit of a scramble while Seamus is occupied.” She glanced around at the anxious faces. “There’s a lot of room swapping going on to give Lavender and Seamus some privacy in his room tonight.”

“What a hassle,” Harry mumbled, and then immediately felt guilty when he thought of Seamus’s shaking form. “But I guess he needs it right now.”

“Not everyone...” Susan wiped at her eyes.“...carries the burden of so many souls as well as Neville did.” She gave Harry a sad smile, then walked away with Millicent, their heads bent together in quiet whispers.

“Thanks for giving us a safe place, Harry,” Tracey said, giving him a hug as she and Theo left. Daphne also hugged him as she left with Ollie.

Draco sighed heavily in relief. “I’m out of practice handling this much stress.” He slumped over on Harry’s bed. “We should petition McGonagall for early exams so we can get the fuck out of here. These close quarters are killing us.”

“Are they?” Harry asked, leaning on the bedpost and running a hand over Draco’s hair. “Maybe they’re forcing into the open the things we would have kept hidden.”

Blaise scoffed. “Are you saying it’s better we all relive our worst memories over and over by walking these halls?”

“No… not that. But, all of us. Our friendships and animosities… they’ve been in flux all year, and maybe that’s a good thing.” He smiled at Draco and caressed his cheek. “Who knows if we’d have ever become friends if we’d never returned.” Both Ginny and Seamus flashed through his mind. “Maybe this is the jolt Seamus needed to push through the last of the memories that keep him up at night.”

“At the possible expense of my life,” Blaise said, but with a teasing smile. “We’ll see what Longbottom has to say tomorrow. Hopefully he’ll manage to talk Finnigan down.”

Despite the close quarters, avoiding one another was a manageable feat, given how well everyone knew everyone else’s schedule. Blaise, a naturally early riser, made it to the Great Hall as soon as breakfast appeared, while Seamus arrived with barely enough time to fill a plate. They sat at opposite ends of the classroom for Defence. And for the afternoon, Blaise stayed sequestered in his room, with Harry, Draco, and Theo keeping him company in turns.

On Tuesday, both Blaise and Harry had the whole morning free while Theo and Draco brewed in the Potions lab. Harry tried his best to get Blaise outside for a fly, but he resisted.

“Exams are just around the corner! This whole fiasco is a good chance to get caught up on revising.” 

Harry threw his hands up in frustration. “You’re being ridiculous! You can’t hide in here until exams are over! Seamus is going to have to get used to the sight of you.”

“I don’t want to make the situation worse. I’ll come out when he’s ready.”

“Neville said they had a nice talk with Ginny and he’s doing a lot better. It’ll be fine. Please, Blaise?” Harry could tell Blaise wanted to say yes. Why did he resist so hard? “Come on, this is so unlike you! Aren’t you more bold and daring than this?”

“Not anymore,” Blaise said, his shoulders drooping. “I think… I think it’s time I let go of Ginny.”

“Really?”

“I don’t know.” He threw his book to his bed and started pacing. “I can’t get anything real out of her, and I’m starting to doubt what I remember. What I felt then, what I feel now. It was just a month, a handful of clandestine meet-ups. Am I obsessing over nothing?”

“It can’t be _nothing_.” Harry thought of how Blaise glowed when he talked about her. “I’ve heard you describe her, and it’s - you get it right, Blaise. You’re not sugar coating it or making her more than she is. I think you see the real her, and it’s okay to fall in love with that.”

“She hates me,” Blaise said, his voice dropping as though hoping Harry might not hear him.

“She doesn’t hate you. She’s scared. She’s confused. She’s still mourning. It’s all a jumble. Just like Seamus - still dealing with the fall-out from war.”

“It’s just my luck to be tangled up with the two people having the hardest time healing.”

“Yeah,” Harry smiled, “that is pretty rotten luck. Both of them are so stubborn and so good at putting on a brave front. But they can’t push it away forever, and we’re all trying to get them the help they need.”

“I don’t want to make things worse for them. And if she’s flying…”

“She’s probably in class right now. It’ll be fine.”

With great reluctance, Blaise followed Harry to the pitch. On finding it empty, he relaxed enough to pick a broom and fly a few laps. Blaise didn’t fly very often, so Harry kept the pace light and easy. If nothing else, the activity distracted them well enough from the dreariness of the past few days.

To Harry, the difficult spot of the week would be their upcoming weekly poker game. Would Seamus and Neville still want to play? It was his last week with Madam Hooch, so he stopped in at Honeydukes for a ‘thank you’ present for her. While he was there, he bought exploding bonbons and an assortment of chocolates to share with the boys, along with the usual Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans. Perhaps that would lighten the mood.

It surprised Harry to find Seamus in a good mood that evening. Dean approached the room cautiously, but grinned when he found Harry and Seamus with tiny, harmless sparks flying from their mouths.

“Exploding bonbons! Ha! It’s been forever since I had those!” Dean took one too and cringed as the popping began. “I hate these things,” he mumbled, spewing more sparks.

Neville declined the bonbons. “I’m sticking with chocolates. This was really nice of you, Harry.”

“You’re welcome. I thought we could all use a pick-me-up after this shitty week.”

“Alas,” Seamus moaned, “no more alcohol from Collin. Although Lav and I got pretty soused over the weekend.”

“You haven’t talked about it much,” Dean said. His eyes darted to Neville’s. “At least not to me. Are you feeling better?”

Seamus shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve been trying not to think about it too much.”

“Maybe you should,” Harry said. He sat up straighter when the others turned wide eyes on him. “The sooner you acknowledge it and work through it, the better. That’s what Hermione told Ron and me last summer.” He nudged Ron, who thankfully lent his support.

“Fucking hell, did she have us talking about every last stupid thing from that year. From the tiny things like letting slide our laundry duties, to the huge things like - like when I left.”

“You left?” Seamus said, his frown deepening. 

“Yeah, I did.” He looked down at the chocolates but didn’t seem to really be looking at them. Harry rubbed his back in support. 

Those had been hard conversations for all of them. Harry remembered those first days after Ron left, searching the Marauder’s Map, expecting to see his name pop on at any moment. But instead he got caught up in watching Ginny’s dot. It felt like a lifetime ago that he’d longed for her. It _was_ a lifetime ago. 

“We were just kids,” Harry said, his voice unexpectedly thick. “It wasn’t fair, any of it. We were kids. Fighting a war. And yeah, Ron left, but he came back stronger than ever. Ginny… found comfort wherever it could be found. How can we be angry with her for that?”

Seamus snorted. “She cheated on you, with the enemy, and you don’t even care?”

Harry shook his head, forcing down the lump in his throat. “We weren’t together then. I broke up with her, and she - I think she hoped for something to last between us…”

“But it didn’t.” Seamus’s words were soft, and still held a bitter edge.

“No. I died.” Harry ruffled his hair and tried to get his spiralling magic under control. He took a deep breath and imagined his broom soaring through the air, as Flitwick had instructed, and something settled inside him. “I died and I came back different. And Ginny… she changed too. Thankfully without dying first.” He tried to smile and calmed even further when the others tried for smiles of their own.

“He helped us,” Neville said. His tone, and the eye roll Seamus gave him, suggested he’d said as much numerous times before. “Until the threats started, Zabini was on our side, as well as he could be.”

“And from what I heard,” Dean added, “she made him pay for switching sides.”

“Yeah she did,” Seamus grinned. “Little bastard’s lucky she went home for the holiday or he’d have been even worse off.” His smile fell. “It’s like I _know_ she can take care of herself but…”

“There’s no ‘but,’” Harry interrupted. “Ginny can take care of herself. Full stop. It took me ages to understand how much she hates everyone treating her like some delicate porcelain doll that needs to be kept on a shelf. And every time someone -”

Ron laid a hand on Harry’s arm to silence him. “Seamus, you know what? I failed. Utterly and completely. I got scared and angry, and I left Harry and Hermione when they needed me. And I never once thought of coming back here, even when I knew my sister - my _only_ sister - might be in danger. Because I have friends like you and Neville. Good, steady boys that would look after her even when I couldn’t. You did everything you could to keep her safe, and it worked. Ginny made it out alive. And… I couldn't ask for a better friend.”

“Mate, I -” But Seamus’s response cut off when Ron pulled him into a tight hug.

“It’s okay,” Ron said. “She’s okay. She’s alive and well, and you don’t have to be scared for her anymore. She’s okay.”

Several silent seconds went by, then Seamus pulled back, wiping at his eyes. “Motherfucking wanker! You almost made me cry!”

“Good, get it all out,” Ron said. He swirled his wand with a smile and conjured a wide, floral handkerchief. “Here’s a hanky for the big, fat tears.”

Seamus snatched it from Ron’s hands, “You son of a…” But they both fell off the bed when Seamus tried to shove it down Ron’s throat. Ron laughed, rolling them across the floor, trying to win back the handkerchief.

“Feeling better?” Dean asked when Harry finally vanished it and they dusted themselves off.

“Yes, but not really,” Seamus said. “It’s probably always going to hurt.”

“Honestly, Hermione said the same thing.” Ron sat next to Harry, avoiding his eye. “I did a shitty thing. Blaise did a shitty thing. We all did shitty things to each other and ourselves trying to make it to the end alive. It’s easy to see in hindsight, but it’s too late to change it now. All we can do is move forward as best we can.”

“I don’t want to play nice with the slimy bastard.”

“Fine,” Neville said. “You don’t have to. Just try not to take it out on the others. Tracey and Daphne weren’t involved, and Millicent… she’s already paid dearly for someone else’s faults.”

Seamus scowled, “Nott was still -”

But Dean cut him off, “How’s Millicent doing? She doesn’t say a word when I’m around.”

“Yeah, she’s more comfortable around the girls than the boys,” Neville said slowly. “I, erm… The memories that returned are… not great.” He scrunched up his face and shuddered. “Daphne, Hannah, and I have been helping her get up to speed in class, and Susan has been helping,” he blushed a deep red, “at other times.” He pressed his lips together and raised his eyebrows, giving them a significant look. 

“Wait,” Dean said, “are you implying Millicent and Susan like _Millicent and Susan_?” Neville pulled a comically wide smile, and all of them dropped their jaws in shock.

“No fucking way,” Ron said. “Seriously?”

“I saw them holding hands,” Harry said, “but I thought that was just how things were with Millicent. Like Tracey or Daphne holding her hand.”

“It was for a while. Poor thing was so disorientated all the time, she needed leading around. But now…”

Seamus looked like he might burst. “Damn, if only she weren’t such a big girl... That could be so hot.”

“I thought you were still angry with the Slytherins?” Dean asked, kicking Seamus.

“I am, but… _Lesbians_ …”

Dean threw his hands up in the air. “You are disgusting, and I don’t know why Lavender puts up with you. Lesbians aren’t for you to ogle.”

“Fuck off. If I have to watch Harry sucking face with the ferret, surely you lot can let me have this.”

“Excuse you,” Harry squealed indignantly, “but I don’t _suck face_ with _Draco_.”

“Don’t give me that shit, the way you two carry on, you might as well be snogging in public.”

“Like you and Lavender?” Ron asked, rolling his eyes.

“Sure, everyone gang up on me now, when I’m so broken and sad,” Seamus yelled over the other boys’ laughter. “I thought we were meant to be pitying me and trying to make me feel better.”

“Is it working?”

“Yeah,” Seamus said, laughing at the whole circle. “Yeah it is.”

\--------

That evening marked a turning point not just for Seamus, but Ginny as well. While the boys gathered in Seamus and Ron’s room to eat sweets instead of play cards, Lavender and Hermione had taken that time to talk things out with Ginny.

“I’m in a unique position to help her,” Hermione said to Ron and Harry the next morning in the common room. “I was hurt by someone that loves me,” she gave Ron a smile and kissed the back of his hand. “But I also hurt the ones I love.”

Ron put his arm around Hermione and kissed her temple. “Your parents will come around, love.”

“I know. One day. But I see why Blaise keeps hope alive.” She sighed and rested her head on Ron’s shoulder for a moment. “I told her how we talked forever about the issues we faced - abandonment, rejection, fear, uncertainty. And now, we’re better for it. I don’t know if she’ll talk with him more, even if it’s just to yell her frustration, but I gave it my best shot.”

“It might be best if we let things quiet down for a bit,” Harry said. “Let everyone rest and think things over. Maybe new feelings will come to light.”

Seamus no longer glared at the Slytherins, but they still did their part to stay out of his way. Or at least, Theo and Blaise did. They didn’t hide away in Blaise’s room anymore, but both developed a knack for being wherever Seamus wasn’t. Harry didn’t think that was especially healthy behaviour, but it did work wonders for keeping tempers in check.

Over the weekend, Harry and Ron went flying with Ginny, and she seemed to be in much better spirits. It helped that neither Ron nor Harry brought up Blaise or Seamus. While Hermione had taught them the value of talking through their troubles, sometimes they just wanted to ignore the storm and fly through the rain.

Monday began the first round of exams. The younger years would be testing first. Harry knew he should be revising for their upcoming NEWTs, but he didn’t care at all. He’d done enough studying to last him a lifetime and would just take whatever marks came. He knew Draco cared greatly about his exams, and so tried his hardest not to distract him.

Right up until Draco said he didn’t have time to celebrate his birthday.

“It’s not a big deal, Harry. No one celebrates their birthday at school.”

Harry couldn’t argue with that. Aside from the strawberry cake Molly had sent for Ron’s birthday, they’d done nothing to celebrate it. But this was completely different. “But you’re my boyfriend and it’s your birthday and it’s a Saturday and I want to make a fuss. Please?” Harry batted his eyes, in case that would help. 

“Fine!” Draco grumbled good-naturedly. “But just dinner! I don’t want to stay over anywhere and... “ His cheeks turned a delightfully rosy pink, “You know, raise expectations.”

“Are you sure?” Harry asked softly, nuzzling Draco’s warm cheek. “It would be a special event for a special occasion…”

“I’m not ready yet. There are too many eyes and ears here. I want to wait until it’s just us. In our own space.”

Harry wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist and kissed him gently on the lips. “I want that too.”

But that wasn’t to say they couldn’t have fun of a different sort. Harry woke that morning to the delicious press of Draco’s warm body along the front length of his. Harry rarely got to be the big spoon, but it was happening more frequently as Draco learned Harry could avoid the scar below his shoulder blade that he hated so much.

Harry loved the feel of Draco’s body cradled in his. He nibbled soft kisses on the nape of Draco’s neck, and slowly caressed his belly and chest, pushing his shirt out of the way as he went, to ease him awake. Then back down, over the curve of his ribs, the flat plane of his belly, caressing lightly over the jut of his hipbone. Draco sighed softly and pushed Harry’s teasing hand to his cock, already achingly hard. Harry hummed in appreciation and gave it a hard squeeze over the flannel fabric. 

“How many times,” Harry whispered, slipping his hand under the elastic, “do you think I can make you come today?” His fingers trailed lightly down Draco’s length to his bollocks and back up again. “Three, four? What do we have time for?”

Draco moaned a non-committal response, but did rock his hips as if to say, ‘Get on with it.’

Working awkwardly with one hand, Harry managed to get the pyjamas pushed down Draco’s thighs. “One day, we can take our time. I can suck you off in the shower. Fuck you over the dining room table. Let you fuck me on the floor in front of the fire.” He wrapped his fingers firmly around Draco’s cock, no longer teasing, and nuzzled his hair. “Out in the garden, in your potions lab. Fuck, Draco, I want you everywhere, every way I can.”

Harry shifted his legs, to mould their bodies more tightly together. He rolled his hips against Draco, gaining friction on his own aching cock against the soft flesh of Draco’s arse. “You feel so good. In my hand, pressed against me.” He moved his hand faster now, knowing Draco wouldn’t take very long first thing in the morning. “I want to sink into you, be so tightly joined with you that we don’t know where I end and you begin.”

“Mm… Harry…” Draco said softly. 

“I love you… so much...“ Harry’s teeth ached with the need to bite at Draco’s shoulder and neck, but he resisted with Draco still being sleepy soft. They just weren’t close _enough_. It would never be enough until Draco’s heart pumped blood through Harry’s body, until his breath filled Harry’s lungs. “I love you, I love you… fuck, please come, Draco.”

And he did. Draco’s body tensed in the curve of Harry’s body, and Harry felt every tremor of muscle, every heaving breath, and every ripple along Draco’s cock as he spilled over Harry’s hand.

“Fuck,” Harry groaned, “you beautiful, sexy… fuck…” Harry had intended to wait. He wanted to build anticipation all day, and have a spectacular orgasm this evening after drawing Draco’s pleasure out over and over again. But he had Draco’s come all over his hand, and the hot, heavy weight of Draco’s body anchoring him to the world. A few quick strokes had him spiralling over the edge, and fuck, he hoped his teeth didn’t leave a mark.

“Ow, you bit me,” Draco whined sleepily.

Harry rolled away to find his wand for a cleaning charm, but then snuggled his body up against Draco again. “You can wear a scarf to cover it,” Harry said, not even feeling guilty. He went back to nibbling soft kisses over the reddening skin. If he thought he could get away with it, he’d bite Draco again. On the arm this time - just sink his teeth into Draco’s juicy bicep. 

“It’s June.”

“Make it a decorative scarf. Something festive for your birthday.” Harry kissed him again, feeling both a rush of ownership and a small, tiny, barely noticeable guilt. “I’m sorry.”

“Liar.”

Harry squeezed Draco around the middle. “Happy birthday.”

“Mm. It is so far.”

They moved quickly and quietly through their morning routine. Blaise was already awake and gone, but Ernie still slept soundly in his bed and they didn’t want to wake him. When Draco reached for his school bag, Harry scrunched up his nose and shook his head. Draco rolled his eyes and indicated the hallway.

“I thought we were going to have fun today?” Harry whispered as he closed the door behind them.

“We are,” Draco said. “We did. But I still have notes to go over, spells to practice. Research. The fifth years are starting OWLs on Monday, and then it’s us. Just over a week left! That’s not much time.”

“But Draco…” Harry whined, tugging him close to kiss him.

“We’ll take a break later for fun, okay? I promise. Before lunch.” Draco bopped him playfully on the nose and walked with Harry to the Great Hall for breakfast.

When the owl post arrived, they helped Draco’s eagle owl to settle with her large bundle. Narcissa had sent Draco a basket full of tiny cakes and iced pastries for his birthday. Harry carried it to the classroom for him, so they could share them around as they studied.

“Did she make these herself?” Ollie asked, taking a tiny chocolate cake for himself and a butterscotch one for Daphne.

“Ha! Absolutely not,” Draco laughed. “She’s got a house elf for these kinds of things.”

“Our house elf never makes sweets like these,” Daphne said, ending on a moan when she took the first bite. “At least not for Astoria and me. Mother never stops worrying we’ll get fat and no man will want us.”

“You know if you get fat,” Ollie said, “then I can get fat too and we can be a happy, round couple. Win-win.” She laughed and shook her head at him, but took a second tiny cake anyway.

Word spread about the cakes, and soon the classroom resembled the common room, with everyone talking and laughing over cakes and the tea that magically appeared. It didn’t escape Harry’s notice that Seamus didn’t join them so he slipped away to find him. 

Lavender and Seamus were curled up together in the window seat, with Parvati and Michael sitting on the sofa across from them. 

“Harry!” Lavender said happily when she saw him. “We were just talking about Draco’s sudden birthday party. How is that going?”

“Good, we miss you lot.” Harry sat next to Parvati, smiling in an open way. “There’s plenty for everyone.”

“Oh, well, we were wondering if we should or not…”

“And Michael and I thought we’d keep them company,” Parvati added.

“You should go join in,” Harry said. “All of you. Draco would like that. I’ll keep Seamus company.”

“Are you sure?” Parvati asked, looking from Lavender to Harry.

“Yeah, you know what? Let’s all go.” Lavender stood and kissed Seamus on the cheek. “I’ll get you one too, all right?” 

“Yeah, thanks,” Seamus said, sitting up straighter as the three of them left. He blew a kiss to Lavender when she paused at the threshold to look back at him. “Thanks,” he said to Harry. “I tried to get them to leave earlier but…”

“It’s fine. He’s not mad at you, you know. Draco. Blaise, either.”

“I know. I’ve made a mess of things,” Seamus said, fiddling with the hem of his sleeve. “I can’t stop being angry.”

“It’s okay to be angry. If you want to talk about it… I mean, I know you’ve talked about it with Lavender and Neville. But… a fresh pair of ears, maybe?”

“I don’t know…” Seamus stood and paced a large circle around the common room. Harry moved to the window seat so he could see him better. “I get it, that we were kids and everything was fucking awful for everyone. I keep thinking of the things we lost, the things we sacrificed to win. And he was _so close_. He could have done so much for our cause… but he got scared from a few threats and ran like a coward.”

Harry wanted to rail back against Seamus’s words. It bubbled up in him, the words of defence for those that weren’t around to defend themselves. But instead he held his tongue and let the silence grow. 

And sure enough, Seamus had more to say about it. “That day those charges went off. Fuck, Harry, I thought that was the end of me. Just a flash of Slytherin robes out of the corner of my eye, a whispered spell, and -” He made an exploding sound, throwing his hands out. 

He lifted his shirt, showing Harry the blast scar on his left side. “Parvati got me to the Infirmary, but damn it was a close call. And if he - if he’d known about the sabotage, could he have warned me? Stopped it all together?”

“Seamus… Maybe this isn’t the right time to ask but… what were you doing setting off bombs inside the castle?” The question had plagued Harry for ages, but he didn’t know how to bring it up without reminding Seamus of the day he almost died.

He surprised Harry by grinning. “They were flash bombs. Mostly light and smoke. I had a series of them to lay down the corridor to scare the shit out of Alecto Carrow on her way to her office.” The smile fell and he curled his lip in disgust. “Fucking Slytherins set them all of at once, and I was too close.”

“I’m so sorry, Seamus.”

He sat next to Harry in the window seat. “When I saw them here again, I almost turned around and left. Neville said I should just ignore them. They could do their thing, we could do ours, and that would be it.” Grudgingly he said, “He also pointed out it took a special kind of bravery to show up in the first place.”

“I thought the same thing. Most of them have parents in prison, uncertain futures. McGonagall took on a huge risk. Us all sharing rooms together made all the difference there. Brilliant idea on her part.”

“I know. It’s - I _know_ it, but I can’t… it hurts so fucking much. And to think Ginny was caught up in it too…” His words trailed off as Blaise and Draco appeared in the doorway.

“Are we intruding?” Draco asked. He offered up a small plate with a dainty pastry drizzled in icing. “Lavender said you might want a pastry?”

Harry shot a glance at Seamus, then smiled, “Thanks Draco, do you - “ He was halfway across the room when Seamus cut through his question.

“Did you know who it was?” Seamus asked. “Who set off the charges that day?”

Draco looked at Blaise, and then the pastry in his hand. “Erm… yes, we do.”

Seamus laughed bitterly. “Of course you do. All of you in it together probably.”

“Actually…” Draco trailed off. Harry noticed the plate beginning to tremble.

“Sit here with us,” Harry said. He vanished the plate and gently guided Draco and Blaise to the sofa. “It’s fine. No wands, no yelling. Let’s just… what can you tell us about that night?”

Blaise sat stiffly, his back ramrod straight and his face impassive. He adjusted his robes in a typical nervous gesture, but made it seem as though his robes actually needed adjusting. Where could Harry learn to be so posh? “We didn’t know before it happened. Not until after, when they came back bragging.”

“It was an accident they found you at all,” Draco said. “Crabbe and Goyle. They were meant to be patrolling a floor below, and they got it mixed up.”

“They didn’t even know what you were doing. They saw you messing about, and just thought they’d set fire to it all. They weren’t expecting the explosion.”

“Although they were pretty proud of themselves.” Draco grimaced. “Crabbe hated you. More than anyone. Jealous, I think, of your special incendiary talents. He loved fire and explosions. And in the end it was his undoing.”

His eyes met Harry’s and for a moment, they were both back in the Room of Hidden Things. Sweat dripping, hearts in their throats, desperately trying to escape the Fiendfyre consuming everything around them.

“We couldn’t have stopped them,” Blaise whispered. “Even if I’d still been giving Ginny information, I wouldn’t have known. They weren’t even supposed to be there.”

“Okay.” Seamus stared off into nothing for several seconds. He got to his feet, startling both Blaise and Draco. “Okay. I guess I needed to hear that. It’s - you know, things are still shit but… I don’t know. I have to find Lavender.” He moved towards the door, then paused. Without looking back he mumbled, “Happy birthday, Malfoy.”

“Thank you,” Draco said quickly, the shock evident on his face. Before he could say more, Seamus vanished.

Blaise gave an exaggerated sigh. “Bloody fucking hell, that was mad!”

“That definitely went better than I thought it would,” Draco agreed. 

“He’s probably still going to be prickly for a while,” Harry said. “But at least now he knows.”

“Maybe we should have told him sooner.” Draco and Blaise looked at one another, then Draco shook his head. “Or maybe he wasn’t ready to hear it. I don’t know. We just… keep moving forward.”

“Should we head back to the party?” Blaise asked.

“Let’s wait until after all the treats are gone and everyone leaves. It’s quieter here now,” Draco said, looking to Harry for confirmation. Behind them, they heard the door to Seamus’s room close. “Although it looks like Finnigan is occupied.”

“We could be _occupied_ ,” Harry said, giving Draco a winning smile. He kicked at Blaise. “You go back to the party. Tell them Draco’s crying his eyes out because Seamus was mean to him -”

“You’ll say no such thing!”

“- and I took him to my room to comfort him.”

Blaise stood and straightened his robes. “Will do!”

“You will _not_ , Blaise Zabini! Or I will scrub the toilet with your toothbrush.”

Harry laughed and pulled Draco down the hall. For his part, Blaise just scoffed. “As if you would get so close to a toilet.”

“I have _magic_ , idiot, and I swear -”

“Enough!” Harry giggled. “We’re going to bed now. You promised me fun today!”

“Have fun you two!” Blaise said, turning the corner.

Harry had Draco naked in bed before he could protest further.

\--------

Despite Harry’s best efforts, Draco refused to go to Hogsmeade until dinner. So Harry’s plan B was to keep Draco in bed all day. Harry had squirrelled away snacks, music, and a deck of cards in his bedside table. Except for loo breaks, he didn’t intend to leave their little nest until dinner time.

But after lunch, the Arithmancy group stole Draco’s attention. And Harry could only squeeze in a quick blow job before Theo, Ernie, and Anthony started talking Potions and distracted Draco again. At least Draco couldn’t ignore the plans they made to go to Hogsmeade.

“I have a surprise for you!” Harry said as they left the Three Broomsticks. He pointed down the lane out of the centre of town.

“Haven’t you done enough for me for today?” Draco asked.

“You love it! Don’t think I don’t notice that flush of excitement in your cheeks!” Harry kissed each of Draco’s pink cheeks. “It’s not really a surprise anyway.”

As they walked, Draco caught on and started walking faster. “Did you sign the papers?”

Harry turned down the shaded lane leading to a quaint cottage. “Just yesterday. Technically we shouldn’t get the keys until Monday when the paperwork is filed, but the estate agent gave them to me early. Said if she couldn’t trust the Boy-who-lived, who could she trust?”

“Harry, this is brilliant!” Draco kissed him quickly. “Race you up the steps!”

Laughing the two of them ran the last few metres and bound up the steps. Harry unlocked the door and they burst through, taking in the small, empty house with beaming smiles.

Draco spun a circle in the sitting room. “We have a house!”

“Ours for now! I signed a six month lease. We’ll decide what we want after that.” Harry loved the wide windows in this room, and the delicate flowers in the window boxes. “We’ll need to get furniture.”

“This is the best birthday ever!” Draco took him by the hand. “Let’s look at everything.”

Even though they’d toured the house together already with the estate agent, everything felt fresh and new now that it was their own space. They would use one bedroom for their own, and the other would be a study for Draco while he finished his Potions Mastery. The kitchen had enough space to move freely, and could fit a table for four. Best of all, the garden spread in all directions from the house, surrounded by tall hedges that afforded them a large measure of privacy. Paired with the spells the estate agent helped Harry cast on the perimeter, it ensured no one would bother famous Harry Potter and his boyfriend.

“I love you.” Draco kissed Harry on the lips, both cheeks, and the lips again. “This is amazing, Harry. I can’t believe we’re going to start our life together here.”

“I came somewhat prepared,” Harry said. He pulled a handful of items from his pocket and scattered them over the floor of the sitting room. He ended the shrinking spell and they grew into a large pile of pillows. “What do you say, Mr Malfoy? Shall we break in the sitting room?”

Draco grinned and unbuttoned is robe with a spell. “Best birthday ever.”

It wasn’t quite as romantic as Harry had hoped - the pillows kept sliding around, and he eventually had to stick them to the floor with charms - but twined with Draco, those tiny details didn’t matter. Draco lined their cocks up and wanked them together, slowly, dragging out the inevitable wave of pleasure.

After, he cradled Harry close, running his hands through Harry’s hair, kissing along his cheeks and eyelids. “I love you,” he whispered.

Harry hugged him close and kissed his neck, along his jaw. “I love you too.”

With great reluctance they dressed and left their house. Soon they would return and begin the next phase of their lives together.

Only three weeks left.

\--------

NEWTs were as nastily exhausting as their name implied. Harry only had four to work through, and that was enough to end him. 

“To think, Voldemort worked so hard to destroy me,” he moaned, collapsing across his bed, “when all he had to do was quiz me for _hours_ on obscure charms, and I would have given up the ghost.”

“Do I need to remind you I have twice as many as you?”

Harry scoffed. “It’s only _three_ more. That’s not twice as many.”

Draco didn’t even dignify that with a response. Harry nudged him with his foot. “Let’s go fuck in our house instead of the Defence NEWT.”

That got a response. Unfortunately it was a dismissive snort.

“Fine.” Harry threw his glasses aside and bunched his pillow under his head. “I’m going to nap. Wake me when it’s all over.” He smiled into his pillow when tender fingers caressed his ankle.

He’d done well in Charms and Defence, but probably didn’t fare so well in Transfiguration and Herbology. Although the witch marking his Herbology work looked a little too starry eyed to be an impartial judge so he could possibly squeeze by with an Acceptable there. But damn, there must be something about Transfiguration that made everyone studying it so straight-laced. Professors McGonagall and Dimple certainly were. Dumbledore hadn’t been like that, so maybe the theory needed work. But Madam Kashani wasn’t fooling around. Harry would sink or swim on skill alone for that NEWT.

And, just like that, it was all over. They would get their final results by owl over the summer, and begin apprenticeships and advanced studies in autumn. The eighth years celebrated with a massive party in their common room instead of going to dinner.

Trays of food and drink circulated among the small groups. Laughing, relieved smiles were on all their faces as they shared the trials of the past exams along with tentative plans for the summer and beyond. Seamus stayed away from the Slytherins, but didn’t make any fuss over them either. Harry thought he deserved bonus points for not scowling when Lavender left his side to chat with Tracey and Parvati.

All that remained was to pack up their trunks for the last time. 

Draco and Harry weren’t taking the train to London, but agreed to cross the lake in the fleet of boats with all the other seventh and eighth years. They stood on the Hogsmeade platform, sharing hugs and joyful tears until everyone boarded the train.

They waved until they could no longer see the train. Then Draco smiled at Harry.

“Let’s go start the next phase of forever.”


	16. Epilogue

What? It ends here? Just like that?

Yes, my dear readers, it does. Not everything can be tied up in the tidy bow of a single year, and this is as far as I can carry you. I set you down gently to run free in your imagination.

But if that’s not enough, here’s what I think happens, in short summaries.

\--------

Ginny and Blaise

Ginny will embark on a brilliant Quidditch career, Blaise in some kind of magical law or politics. Their lives will intersect frequently because of their friendships with Harry and Draco. And over time, as old memories soften and new memories form, they become friends and then lovers. Ginny retires from Quidditch to work as a correspondent with the _Daily Prophet_. She and Blaise marry and have two adorable children.

\--------

Seamus and Lavender

Lavender and Parvati open a boutique together, specialising in unique handmade jewelry. Seamus learns, as he grows older, to manage his anger, and come to terms with the responsibilities he carried during the war. Crossing paths with Blaise, they learn to move around each other more naturally and become friends of a sort. He becomes an expert in magical explosives and eventually joins the Auror equivalent of a bomb squad. They have three beautiful boys that love their mum and always treat her with the utmost respect.

\--------

Neville and Hannah

Hannah begins Healer training, but takes a break when a family situation leaves her in charge of the Leaky Cauldron. She picks it up again years later, and becomes a full fledged Healer. Neville attempts Auror training (despite having no Potions NEWT) to please his grandmother, but gives it up to train under Professor Sprout. He becomes Herbology professor, and soon after, Hannah takes over from Madam Pomfrey, and they live happily ever after taking care of all the children passing through Hogwarts.

\--------

Dean and Luna

Dean and Luna renovate Grimmauld Place into a studio where they teach arts and crafts to low-income kids, while offering counselling and guidance to teens in need. They occasionally travel and buy odd souvenirs and paint gorgeous sunsets from all over the world. They have two children of their own, and adopt two more later on.

\--------

Millicent

Millicent goes through extensive healing procedures to restore most of her memories. She works with the DMLE to extend her father's sentence in Azkaban. Consequently, he dies in prison. She gets a secretarial job in the Ministry and works with quiet diligence over the years. She explores relationships with both men and women, but eventually finds a nice witch to settle down with. They adopt two children and a kneazle.

\--------

Theo and Tracey

Tracey helps Lavender and Parvati when they need it at the boutique, but mostly she enjoys being a stay at home wife. Theo finishes his Potions Mastery and goes into medical research. He makes a name for himself developing broad spectrum antidotes that revolutionize treatment of rare diseases. They have six children and Tracey laments their babies grow too fast.

\--------

Ron and Hermione

Hermione makes several trips to Australia over the years, mending the broken relationship she has with her parents. She also works in the Ministry, righting the wrongs as best she can. Ron goes straight to working with George in the shop, which becomes a happy and successful place once again. When Rose comes along, Hermione’s parents finally make the move back to England. Grandbabies have a way of drawing families together, and by the time Hugo comes along, it’s as if they never left.

\--------

Harry and Draco

They spend almost a week in Paris together, exploring the city by day, and each other by night. The summer flies by, with Harry helping at the school and Draco doing research for his Potions Mastery. Over the year, they intersperse visits abroad with visits to the Manor with Narcissa.

Eventually they buy the little cottage, and it becomes a place to truly call home. Draco finishes his Potions Mastery and throws himself full time into research. He revises and updates several Potions texts for a new generation of students. Harry takes up hobbies at random, but his favourite is baking. He keeps their house full of muffins, breads, tarts, and pastries for all the little nieces and nephews that come to visit - so many that they have to renovate the attic for overnight guests. Harry takes up writing, beginning with children’s books, and continuing with a popular series of travel guides, describing in detail his favourite places to visit all over the world.

But no matter where they go, his home is always at Draco’s side.

All is well.


End file.
